I Want it All
by BellaSalvatore1918
Summary: Damon Salvatore and Clarissa King were once best friends, but a falling out caused them to hate each other. Stefan had always known this about his brother and his friend, but what he didn't know was that this hatred soon became lust. Through the hell that surrounds Mystic Falls now, can Damon and Claire ever find a way of making this delusional relationship actually work? Damon/OC.
1. History Repeating

**Hey, everyone! New story time! Please keep in mind that summer vacation starts in like 3/4 weeks, so I'm going to be able to update _a lot. _Free days, free nights...what's a girl to do? So that's why there are all these new stories popping up. Don't worry, I planned this out well :) I can't promise that they'll all be kept, but I can promise that it won't be because I have trouble updating. That's almost never the reason why stories get cut when they do.**

**Anyway, so this is a story taking place from 1x09 and forward. More will be explained into the characters and such...obviously, there'll be flashbacks sometime soon. As you can see from the summary, Claire and Damon's relationship will be _completely _dysfunctional, like you'll realize in this chapter. But there can only be improvement...well, I'm lying to you. **

**Enjoy! Review at the end if you can, please. **

**Disclaimer: Only saying this once. I do not own TVD or any of it's characters/dialogue/episode plot lines. However, I do own my OC character, Clarissa (Claire) King, and any other characters I decide to include. I also own the writing and my original ideas. **

* * *

**History Repeating**

Clarissa King walked the brightly lit streets of her modernized, yet still quaint hometown, Mystic Falls, desperately eyeing her phone for a call or a text of any kind from Lexi Branson. She wondered if there was something wrong with the connection regarding her phone's service, but the device told her she was in a range of full bars. _So why the hell isn't she returning my calls? _The thought boggled Claire, but along with meeting Lexi, she had one more thing on her mind.

It had been since she was turned into a vampire that she'd been back to this godforsaken town, and she _knew _she was a damn good friend to be coming back. Sure, it was a day late, but coming back at all _had _to have given her points of some kind. Besides, it wasn't _her _fault that she'd been detained back in Rio—the entire airport shut down due to the weather. It was just a little…tropical storm.

With a sigh, Claire brought the phone to her ear and waited as the dial rang—once…twice…three times…a fourth time—before it finally cut to voicemail.

"_You've reached Lexi! Leave a message!" _

Hearing the beep, Claire sighed again. "Lexi, I've been calling you ever since I was able to get a flight here. Where the _hell _are you? Call me!" With that said, she angrily ended the fifth or so phone call that she'd made to Lexi, never minding the fifteen text messages.

_Where was it again? _Clarissa thought to herself, pulling her body to a stop as she looked around the town square, finding herself completely unfamiliar with the territory. After all, she hadn't been back since the Civil War era, where the girls wore hoop skirts and big hair and the men wore trousers and riding boots. Now, girls in skimpy little dresses paraded around to _school _and guys wore jeans that pooled around their ankles.

_God save humanity_, she thought bitterly, brushing off the thought with a frustrated sigh. She'd already missed her best friend's _actual _birthday—she wasn't about to miss the day after, either.

"Excuse me," Claire stopped someone in the town square—a young woman, most likely in her twenties, with blondish-brown hair and kind eyes. "Can you tell me where to find Stefan Salvatore?"

* * *

"Rise and shine!"

Stefan Salvatore shot up from his bed to face his brother, who was practically looming over him in his sleep.

"You'll be late for school," finished Damon with a scolding tone.

"What are you—what are you doing?" Stefan demanded, quite displeased with his brother. After all, Damon had managed to kill his best friend and piss him off even _more_—which, until last night, Stefan had thought was impossible.

Damon held out a mug of coffee with a trying smile. "Peace offering."

Stefan nearly rolled his eyes at the lame attempt at Damon getting himself back in Stefan's good graces, and he just shuffled out of bed—without a shirt on. Damon stopped him at the threshold of the bathroom Stefan was about to walk into. "Come on," Damon persisted, practically shoving the mug in his face. "You need it for blood circulation. Does dead flesh good."

Stefan just stared blankly at Damon, refusing to give into him. But could anyone blame him? Damon drove a wooden stake through Lexi's heart without blinking. Damon knew this, of course, and that's why he was trying to apologize for it. "All right, I'm sorry."

"Step aside, please," Stefan said briskly. Just because he couldn't _kill _Damon didn't mean he had to be nice to him.

"I got the town off our back," Damon complained. "It was for the greater good, but I'm _sorry_. And to prove it, I'm not going to feed on a human!" he shouted so Stefan could hear from in the bathroom. In a lower voice, he added, "For at least a…week. I'll adopt the Stefan diet, only nothing with…feathers."

"Because I realize that killing your closest and oldest friend is beyond evil…at yet, somehow, it's worthy of humor," Stefan mocked as he walked out of the bathroom with a shirt over his shoulder so he could change.

Damon seemed to catch on. "Are you mimicking me?"

"Yes, Stefan," Stefan mocked again, sliding his shirt onto his body. "Now that the secret society of vampire haters is off our back, I can go back to my return of how can I destroy Stefan's life this week."

Damon, clearly enjoying the amusement, hesitated once before playing along, as his brother. "And _I _can go back to sulking and Elena-longing and forehead brooding." With a smile, he glanced up at Stefan. "This is fun. I like this," he said, amused.

"And I," began Stefan, never breaking character, "will finally reveal my motive behind my evil and diabolical return to Mystic Falls."

As result of Stefan's testing of the waters, Damon quickly dropped his amused tone. "_Yeah. _I'm done." He turned to leave the room, but spun around to face Stefan and, in a mimicking tone, spoke, "This is just like you, Damon. Always have to have the last word."

With this, Damon left his brother alone to change so he could probably go out and meet with Elena, the love of his pathetic, eternal life. Truth be told, Damon could understand where Stefan was coming from with this girl—she was just like Katherine, just _better_. Looked like Katherine but had qualities that even Katherine couldn't harbor. But when he had Katherine back, Damon couldn't give a rat's ass about whether or not Stefan and Elena lived a long, happy life together. Without Katherine, though…without Katherine would be a different story.

The second Damon's foot landed on the ground at the end of the stairs, the front door chimed, letting both brothers know that there was someone for them. With a sip of his coffee, Damon walked towards the front door, placed his hand on the knob, and opened it.

"Happy—" The pale-haired vampire gave a disappointed frown seeing Damon's smug smile as he realized who it was. "You're not Stefan," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"It's wonderful to see you, too, Clarissa," Damon chimed, giving her a reserved look. "But, no. I'm not my brother. Thank _God_." He scoffed at the mere thought.

"Damon—" Stefan began as he descended the stairs to see who was at the door, but stopped frozen in his tracks seeing the twenty-one year old vampire at the doorstep, right beyond his brother's shoulder. "No," Stefan breathed out, incredulous—but in a good way. He rushed up to the door with a smile on his face, astounded at the sight before him. "Clarissa!"

He pulled her into a hug, to which she returned with a tighter squeeze. "It's Claire now," she said to him when they pulled away to look at each other.

"Claire," Stefan corrected. "I like it. It's more modern. What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked, but then a dark feeling settled over him. _Lexi, _he thought to himself, soon realizing before she even said the words.

"Lexi and I were going to come see you for your birthday," Claire told him, sighing. "But…I was in Rio and they had a tiny little weather problem so the airports shut down."

Stefan raised an eyebrow. "How _tiny _is 'tiny'?"

"…like, a tropical cyclone." Claire shrugged. "Still. They were all being a bunch of babies about it. Anyways, I couldn't get a flight anywhere to come for the actual day, but the airports opened up this morning and I took the first flight out." She gave him a smile, but then soon asked the dreaded question. "Where's Lexi?"

Before Stefan had the chance to respond, Damon did it for him. "She left," Damon said simply, sipping his coffee without a care. Stefan wanted to correct him—to tell Claire what really happened—but he automatically saw where his brother was coming from.

The three of them had been friends since childbirth, really—Damon was the first one born, Clarissa three years later, and Stefan four years after her. During the time that Stefan wasn't around or was too young to understand what a friend meant, Damon and Clarissa were the two toddlers that everyone was sure would end up with each other. The problem was, after an incident of complete misunderstanding, Damon and Clarissa grew to hate each other with each passing year. Clarissa became closer to Stefan as a friend and Damon spent his time with his _other _friends—his older friends. Stefan had always been the "mediator", if you will, in their relationship, and whenever he left them alone, he would come back to a house completely destroyed by their wrath.

Finding out that Damon killed Lexi—that _anyone _killed Lexi, really—would drive Clarissa to do things that no one wanted to see. Since their childhood, she was never the one to show mercy. If she learned that Lexi was gone, she would stop at nothing to find out who it was that killed her—and if she realized it was _Damon, _her nemesis? That wouldn't end well.

As a result, Stefan played along and said nothing to deny his brother's statement.

Claire frowned. "Well, did she say where she was going? She hasn't been answering her phone calls."

"Nope. Promised to send a post card, though," Damon quipped, smirking against his mug. Claire rolled her eyes and turned back to Stefan, trying not to let Damon get underneath her skin.

"Please enlighten me on your decision to let a pest into your home."

"A pest is better than a whore." Clarissa rolled her eyes at Damon's petty attempt to make her angry, which only made him smile.

Stefan sighed. "Knock it off, you two," he warned, looking between the two of them. Damon shrugged and leaned against the door while Clarissa crossed her arms over her chest. He turned to Claire. "Come on, let me take you upstairs. Damon-free zone," he promised.

Claire's eyes widened with joy. "My life's _dream_," she sung and walked into the Salvatore house, brushing past Damon who just gave her a smoldering gaze as she moved past him and followed Stefan up the stairs to his bedroom. "Okay, I have one question and one question _only_," she began as she entered the bedroom and turned around as Stefan shut the door. "Why the _hell _are you back here?"

Stefan sighed. "You might want to sit down for this one."

After Stefan had finished telling Claire about Elena Gilbert, Katherine's look-alike, she stared at him, astounded. "You've got to be _kidding _me," Claire said, her jaw practically on the floor. Stefan was lying on his bed, his arm draped across his forehead. "When will you _learn, _Stefan?"

She got up from her position at the foot of the bed and walked over to his desk, where she shuffled through the papers as Stefan spoke. "It's different, Claire. I promise, she's _not _Katherine."

"Doesn't matter if she's Katherine or not." Claire shrugged and grabbed the picture on Stefan's desk that laid out for anyone to see. She held it up so that his eyes looked over it. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? If this Elena girl finds out that your ex-girlfriend looked like her…"

Stefan sighed and pulled himself off the bed, walking over to the desk to grab the picture out of Claire's hand softly. "She won't," he promised again. "Even if she does, I think we can move past it. She's so…understanding of it all."

Claire scoffed. "Yeah, you don't find that often nowadays. I have to compel all my boyfriends to not be afraid," she pouted, hanging her head and trailing off sadly. "They're all so…_touchy_."

Stefan laughed, and a brief moment passed before he spoke again. "So, how long are you planning to stay?" he asked, hopeful that she wouldn't leave. He hadn't seen her since the seventies, and even then, it _definitely _wasn't back in Mystic Falls.

Claire shot him a smile. "As long as you want, Stef," she piped up, walking around the desk to bump his shoulder. "I've been everywhere you could possibly _imagine. _Bora Bora, Spain, Rome, Athens…Rio, obviously," she chuckled. "I've done it all. Now I've got some time on my hands."

Stefan smiled, but it was almost glum. She recognized this as soon as she sat down on the bed, crossing her legs underneath of her after she kicked her shoes off. "What's wrong?" she asked, straightening.

Stefan hung his head and sighed again. "I…was actually thinking about leaving," he admitted, looking up to meet her confused gaze. "All I've done since I came back is put Elena in harm's way. After I make sure things are safe for her here, I should probably leave."

Claire frowned. "Yeah, like that's going to happen. Once Mystic Falls has you, you _never _get out," she whispered mockingly, earning a small smile from Stefan. Quickly, she jumped up from the bed and walked over to him, leaning against the desk that he was propped against. Again, she bumped his shoulder. "Look, if you really want to leave, we'll leave. We need to do some catching up, anyway. London's nice this time of year," she suggested lightly, letting Stefan see her bright smile. In response to her gesture, he grinned as well, until he had to leave to go talk to this infamous Elena.

* * *

Claire whistled as she bounced down the stairs in the approaching evening, ready to grab a quick drink before she went back upstairs and waited for Stefan to come back so they could catch up on more things. They had just finished talking about what each of them had been up to at the end of the 1980's when Elena had called him, desperate for his help with something urgent. Honestly, Claire thought it was sweet—Stefan being the knight and shining armor for his _girl. _Though, he was intent on leaving, which was probably the end of that love story.

Truth be told, she might've attempted at convincing Stefan to stay if it were under different circumstances—or, perhaps, _better _circumstances. First of all, they were in Mystic Falls, the town from hell, itself. Secondly, this Elena girl looked just like Katherine Pierce, the _bitch _from hell. Katherine, like Clarissa, Damon, and Stefan, was once a resident of Mystic Falls, herself, but she had brought so much death to the town that it was mind-blowing. The reason Claire hated Katherine more than anything was because Katherine had killed her.

Katherine had turned her into a vampire—forcibly. If not for the vampire bitch, she wouldn't be eternal.

What had happened was that Katherine felt threatened by Claire's presence in Mystic Falls. And what's a girl to do when presented with a threat? Get rid of it, of course. But, no, killing her would just not suffice—for some _odd _reason, Katherine found her more useful as a vampire. So, the beautiful demon turned her, forced her to feed, and a week later, Damon and Stefan were vampires as well. Unlike her, though, they hadn't been forced into completing their transition.

_Good thing that bitch is dead, _Claire thought as she poured herself a glass of bourbon. _Otherwise I would have some serious questions for this Elena girl. _

Just as Claire topped the bourbon container and pulled the glass up to her lips to drink, she heard a voice.

"That's my bourbon."

She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. "Funny," Clarissa said, smiling to herself as she turned around to face Damon, who leaned against the threshold between the foyer and the parlor. "I don't see your name on it."

Damon snickered to himself and straightened so that he could walk into the room. "There are certain things in this household that don't _need _my name on it, sugar." He walked forward and simply watched as she drank from the bourbon without hesitation. "For example…my bourbon."

Claire nodded. "Is that all?" she asked, her grey eyes impaling his with a teasing glance.

"Human blood stash," Damon sighed, his eyes giving her a once-over. "That's mine, too."

"I'll make sure to raid that next, then."

Damon scoffed. "Cute." He let out a breath as he watched her sip from the bourbon glass again without even attempting to acknowledge his earlier warning. "So how long has it been? Six months?"

"Seven," she corrected after swallowing down the strong alcohol, setting the empty glass on the alcohol table behind her.

"Have you been _counting?" _Damon accused in a light tone.

Claire smiled. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?" Damon hummed in agreement. "When we both know that you've been _waiting _for me to show up one of these days. That's why you were so happy when I showed up on your doorstep this morning," she accused right back, resting the urge to give him a wider, knowing smile.

Damon's eyes drifted up to meet hers, and they stayed that way for a long time before she was thrown, her back hitting the hard surface of a wall, earning a grunt from her mouth in the searing pain that faded almost as quickly as it had came. Damon's arms kept her trapped within his reach and his body kept her pinned to the wall. "And we both know _why _you even came back in the first place. Just couldn't get enough of me."

Claire scoffed. "Please. I could've gone _years_ without you." She used her own vampire strength to move them, now throwing Damon onto the couch in the middle of the parlor. He watched as she spread her knees and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He placed his hands on her waist and kept her situated. "But, I mean…now that we're here…"

She hovered for a split moment, and with understanding between the both of them, Damon leaned forward and began to kiss her soft, sweet skin, ever so often brushing his teeth against her neck. This is what they'd been doing behind Stefan's back for _years _on end—ever since the late twenties, actually. Stefan thought that his brother and his best friend were sworn enemies…and, they were. Really, they hated each other to no end. But there was a time when that hatred turned into something much more—passion. That passion drove them to one night, and then another night, and soon, it became routine. But their hatred still stood strong, and whenever in front of their mutual party, they would act like they always did. But behind closed doors, it wasn't _hate _they were expressing.

It was never continuous or exclusive. It was one of those things when, if they crossed paths and Stefan happened to not be around them, they wouldn't spend so much time talking about their hatred but rather not talking at all. There was always an attraction there, from the moment that they'd first really _noticed _each other. But after they had their falling out, things had never been the same.

But their time in the late twenties wasn't the first time truly _showing _how intimate they could be. Though it was their first actual time sleeping together back in the twenties, even back in eighteen sixty-four, they'd kissed once or twice by no fault of their own. They were merely "swept up in the moment", as Damon had said once to her.

His lips kissed her skin in broken parts, but nevertheless made desire ripple down to her lower half. "I'll be honest, I missed this, Clarissa."

"It's Claire now," she said, closing her eyes, focusing in on the way Damon's lips felt against her. "Just Claire."

"Claire," he corrected, and the way he said it sounded so..._different. _They hated each other, they verbally _abused _each other, and yet this was how they reacted. It seemed quite ridiculous, but it had always been inevitable. The one thing they could control was their feelings for each other. Though their sexual encounters had changed the way they _looked _at each other, it did nothing to change how they felt. They did not kiss; they decided this a long time ago. Kissing would just ruin it all. Just because their attraction had beaten the best out of them, it was no reason to go changing everything.

"How long will Stefan be gone?" Damon murmured against her, which caused an electric hum to be sent down her spine. She shivered as a result against him, and an involuntary groan escaped her mouth as she responded.

"I have no clue," Claire answered, rolling her hips unconsciously, desperate for any source of friction she could possibly hope for. Her hands ran down his chest, feeling the skin underneath his shirt. The action coaxed a moan out of Damon's mouth against her shoulder, and his teeth skimmed the pale feature. "But I suggest we make this fast."

Damon pulled away from her shoulder and looked up at her. For a second, Claire thought that he would kiss her, but he didn't. A smirk appeared on his lips, and she gave him one in return. He gripped her hips tightly before pushing and pulling her so that she was lying on the couch, and he fit his body between her legs. Damon's hand skimmed the side of the thigh that was slightly pushed over the couch's edge, and he pulled it so that it coiled around his waist. It wouldn't be long until the satisfaction consumed them both, but that was what this was all about.

Satisfaction.

* * *

Claire had fixed her hair, a glass of bourbon whiskey, _and _her shirt before Stefan arrived home. He had walked through the door shortly after Damon had left to go to this "Mystic Grill", a town bar/restaurant that he _assured _her would be worth her while. But that invitation was meant to be on her _own _time—though they were sometimes intimately involved, that didn't require much talking on their part. Whenever they started talking, they would start arguing…that was just the way it was. Clarissa was relieved to find that Stefan didn't suspect a single thing when he walked through the threshold.

"How was your meeting with your girl?" she asked, returning to the foyer instead of going upstairs like she'd planned.

Stefan sighed. "Not good," he admitted. Claire raised an eyebrow in prompt, and Stefan inhaled to begin. "Damon threatened Bonnie—a friend of Elena's. Bonnie happens to be a witch. A Bennett witch."

Claire took a moment, but eventually, she opened her mouth, "Wasn't 'Bennett' the last name of that witch Katherine had under her sleeve—"

"Emily," Stefan answered for her with a nod. "Yeah. Emily Bennett. Bonnie's a descendant of hers. Damon threatened her over this…crystal. Katherine's crystal."

Claire crossed her arms, confounded at his statement. "Katherine's crystal? What would Damon want with Katherine's crystal?"

"I have no clue."

The blonde vampire sighed. "You know, is it just me or is history starting to repeat itself? A strange Katherine look-alike...a Bennett witch...two Salvatore brothers..._me_..."

"History will _not _repeat itself," Stefan said firmly, pointing at her. "Elena won't get hurt by all of this. Remember, we're leaving after I know she's safe. And I won't know that until I figure out what Damon wants with this crystal." Clarissa held up her hands in surrender before bringing her glass of alcohol to her lips. "Speaking of, where _is _Damon?"

Claire finished taking a sip of her alcohol before responding. "Oh, he went out a few minutes ago. Said something about a drink at 'The Grill'." She smiled vindictively. "Probably going to hit on some old grandmas. They're the only ones who would date him." She couldn't help but laugh at her own joke, and she found comfort when Stefan laughed, too. "That was a good one, wasn't it?"

"It was," Stefan admitted, but then pursed his lips.

Claire groaned. "Oh, what is it, Stefan? You have your thinking face on." She waited for him to answer her by taking a large gulp of her alcohol, feeling the sting that came afterwards.

"Do you think you can play nice tonight?" Stefan asked. Claire raised an eyebrow. "With Damon, I mean?"

She kept her eyebrow raised. "…Why?"

* * *

According to Stefan, Claire didn't need to change to go out to this restaurant, so she just slipped on a blazer and went with Stefan to this hang out place. It was in the town square, surrounded by nice little shops and the courthouse that was just around the corner. She remembered when the town square was filled with archaic apothecaries and recreational activities. Now, it was full of people and buildings.

To be honest, she liked it better this way. The era she'd been born in was a little rocky, to say the least.

"Bourbon, please," Claire ordered as soon as she came up to the bar, sitting right next to Damon. Damon turned his head towards her in surprise, but another voice caught his attention.

"So, Stefan…" Damon turned his head again to see his brother walking towards him, doing that same childish mockery he had been doing from earlier in the morning. "You know, I've been thinking…I think we should…start over. Give this brother thing another chance. We used to do it oh, so well once upon a time." Stefan gave a smoldering look that was supposed to copy Damon's.

Claire knotted her eyebrows at them curiously and merely watched as Damon responded in a lower, brooding tone. "I don't…_Damon. _I can't trust you to be a nice guy. You—you kill everybody, and you're so mean. You're so mean, and…"

"I'm sorry," Claire cut in, earning the brothers' attention. "Are you two…seriously _mocking _each other?" She looked at Damon. "Because if you're mocking Stefan, you're doing a _terrible _job."

Damon shrugged. "What can I say? My brother's _really _hard to imitate. And then I have to go to _that _lesser place…" Claire rolled her eyes as Stefan ordered a coffee from the bartender, who had just put down her drink in front of her.

"So what's with the bottle?" Stefan asked, looming over his brother's shoulder.

Damon let out a sigh. "I'm on edge. Crash diet, and I'm _trying _to keep a low profile."

"Ha," Claire laughed, nearly spitting out her drink. Damon gave her a sour smile as he watched when she recovered from her near spill. "_Damon Salvatore _keeping a low profile? I'm sorry, has hell frozen over?"

Damon chuckled. "Well, you should know. I hear you visit on the weekends."

"You know," Stefan intervened, pulling his brother's attention back. "You could always just leave. Find a new town to turn into your own personal 'Gas N' Sip'," he suggested.

Damon shrugged. "I'll manage." The bartender brought Stefan's coffee to him, and the younger Salvatore thanked him for the beverage. Damon eyed his brother carefully, decoding his intentions. "You know, you don't have to keep any eye on me. Especially not with _her _help." He pointedly turned to Claire, who hadn't caught onto his sentence.

When she did, she gasped and put her hand to her chest. "Oh, you mean me?" She snapped her fingers, disappointed. "And here I thought I was making your Top Ten Nights list." Claire pouted, earning an eye roll from Damon as he poured himself another shot. "Anyway, Stefan and I aren't here to keep an eye on you."

"So why _are _you here?" Damon asked, turning to his brother this time for information. Stefan shrugged.

"Why not?" he retorted and grabbed the bottle of alcohol from Damon, swiping it from the counter and moving over to the dartboard. Claire drained her shot before joining the two brothers, who had just started a game.

"Winner plays me," Claire said, dropping to the booth beside Stefan, who was waiting for Damon to write the names down on the chalkboard before they began.

Damon scoffed from all the way over at the dartboard. "Doesn't matter who plays you, you'll still lose."

Claire laughed. "Oh, you better be _praying _that it's not you, Damon, or I'll take you for everything you've got."

Stefan sighed. "Seriously, when will you two learn to play nice with each other?"

Damon snuck a glance at the blonde-haired vampire sitting beside his brother, but he quickly averted his eyes. "Never, Stefan. Never."

"What was that fight even about, anyways?" Stefan asked as Damon stood by his side and he braced to throw his first dart. "All I remember was that you two were screaming and shouting and our parents had to break it up."

"He broke a vase in my house," Claire answered as Stefan's dart hit a good position on the board. She got up from her position at the booth and marked the score for the youngest within the three. "My parents thought I did it."

Damon sighed. "And then she retaliated by breaking father's prized drinking glass. He thought I did it," he said, throwing the dart at the board while Claire was still at it. She stepped out of the way just in time for it to hit the board instead of _her_—not that it would hurt her much, anyways.

Claire shrugged and wrote the score for Damon on the other side of the board. "Not my fault you were so naïve to think that I could actually _stand _to see you after the trouble you'd gotten me into."

She moved out of the way for Stefan to make his shot, and the three of them watched in silence as Stefan hit the very center of the board, scoring him the maximum points possible. "Lucky shot," Damon brushed it off as Claire wrote the score on Stefan's side of the board.

"More like a carefully honed skill over many decades," Stefan retorted.

Damon took a look over at the board. "You're beating me," he said in a sore-loser tone.

"Well, _yeah_," Stefan said as if it were blatantly obvious. "It's because I'm better than you." He smiled.

"I'm onto you," Damon accused in a skeptical tone. He looked over at Claire. "Both of you. Reverse psychology. I mean, it's a _little _transparent, but I admire the effort."

"You prefer the brooding forehead?" Stefan asked, mocking his own description that Damon has indulged in time and time again.

"Seriously," Damon said, now annoyed. "What game do you two think you're playing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Claire interrupted, grabbing the dart from the board and smiling as Damon turned to her. "Darts." She threw the dart straight at Damon, and he caught it with his inhuman speed so that it didn't go flying past him. He smiled bitterly, not appreciating the literal answer to his question. He turned back to Stefan, who was laughing.

"Come on, Stefan. Really. What are you trying to do?"

"That's a funny question," Stefan said, emphasizing his words, "considering the fact that I have ben asking you that for _months_." Damon just bowed his head, shaking it. "It's _frustrating, _isn't it?"

Damon took a moment to respond. "Touché," he goaded, though his tone was less than pleased.

* * *

Stefan had won darts, and Damon had watched while Claire and Stefan went back and forth during the game, eventually coming out to Stefan winning, again. Moving along with their plan, Stefan asked Claire to come with them to continue the night, but she politely declined and decided to stay at the Grill, where she would be waiting for Stefan if he needed her help. The whole reason she'd come was so that she could back Stefan up if need be. Damon was strong, and in truth, she wasn't the strongest vampire out there, but she was well fed. Unlike Stefan, she could _control _her diet, somewhat. It was her emotions that were out of control at times.

A while later, Stefan returned from his alone time with Damon—around Clarissa's third drink. As soon as he walked in, she made a sound and pulled the glass away from her lips. "How'd it go?" she asked.

To be honest, she was quite concerned with Damon's ulterior motive, as well. Claire wished her "special enemies" deal with Damon would cause him to tell her his secret agenda, but that was _never _the case when it came to Damon…or even to her. She wouldn't be so open and willing if he asked her a question about her personal motives.

"Not good." Stefan slid into the booth and looked around, cautiously looking for a lurking Damon. "He's…he's trying to…_bring her back_."

Claire knotted her eyebrows. "Bring her back?" she repeated, shaking her head. "Bring _who _back?"

"Katherine."

At this, her confusion turned into fear. _"What?" _she almost shrieked. Stefan nodded. "You mean, like, bring her back from the _dead, _bring her back?"

Now Stefan shook his head in rejection to her question. "No. No, _that's _the thing!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Claire, Katherine never…_died_."

"What do you mean Katherine never _died_—?"

Stefan cut her off. "Claire, come on. I'll explain everything, but we need to get going—_now_," he said, getting out of the booth immediately. At the urgency, Claire jumped up and left a few bills on the table for her drinks, but wasted no time in following Stefan.

As promised, he'd explained everything to her on the way to the cemetery—or, more specifically, Fell's Church. As Stefan described what Damon had told him, the location began to make more sense…Katherine, who was "burned" in the church was instead trapped _beneath _it, sealing Katherine away until someone could get her out. Damon's goal was to open that tomb and get Katherine out…which wasn't such a bad thing when you thought about it.

They finally found Damon, who had been fixed onto a tree with a branch through his torso. Stefan immediately rushed to help Damon, and the vampire groaned on the ground. "Oh, that hurts. _This _is why I feed on people." Claire rolled her eyes beside Stefan, but watched as the young witch girl was drawing a circle in the ground.

"Stefan," the possessed witch said, spotting him. Her eyes shifted to Claire, and the witch straightened. "Clarissa King."

"Do I know her?" Claire whispered, looking over at Stefan. "I don't know her."

Stefan looked forward at Bonnie. "Hello, Emily." At this, Claire widened her eyes and turned back to the young, unfamiliar witch being possessed by Emily Bennett.

"These people don't deserve this," the witch defended herself. "They should never have to know such evil."

"What do you mean 'evil'?" Stefan asked, realizing that he hadn't heard the full story.

"Emily!" Damon shouted behind Stefan. "I swear to _God, _I will make you regret this!"

"I won't let you unleash them into this world!"

"Them?" Stefan repeated.

Claire shook her head at Emily. "But…you only sealed _Katherine _in that tomb."

Stefan turned around to his brother, realizing. "What part of the story did you leave out, Damon?"

"What does it matter?"

Hearing his brother's evasive answer, Stefan turned around to face Bonnie. "Emily, tell me what you did!"

"To save her," began the witch, "I had to save _them_."

"You saved _everyone _in the church?" Stefan repeated, now realizing why this was such a bad thing that his brother did not want him finding out. If all the vampires got out of that tomb...all hell would break lose.

"With one comes all."

"All of the vampires rounded up into the church, Stefan that's twenty-seven vampires…" Claire shook her head. "With a grudge like that, they'd slaughter the whole town."

Damon staggered onto his feet. "I don't care about that!" he claimed. "I just want Katherine."

Stefan looked at his brother. "I knew I shouldn't have believed a single word that comes out of your mouth. This isn't about love, this is about revenge!"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive."

"Damon, you can't do this!"

"Why not?" raved Damon, his eyes filling with hatred. "They killed _twenty-seven _people and they called it a war battle. They deserve whatever they get!"

"Twenty-seven _vampires_, Damon! They were _vampires_. You can't just…_bring _them back!" Stefan yelled, holding his brother by the collar. Damon, in turn, grasped Stefan's equally as tight.

"This town deserves this," he claimed.

"You're blaming innocent people for something that happened one hundred and forty-five years ago."

Damon released himself from Stefan's grasp. "There is _nothing _innocent about these people. And don't think for a _second _that it won't happen again! They already know too much, and they'll burn your little grandwitch right next to us when they find out," Damon accused, pointing towards the witch in the circle. "Trust me."

"Things are different now," Emily assured him, but Damon wasn't taking it.

He began in a pleading tone now, "Don't do this.

"I _can't _free them," the possessed witch said, enunciating it out for Damon to understand. "I won't."

Despite Damon's protests, the witch in the middle of the elaborate circle yelled a word and raised her arms and, within a moment, there was a ring of fire surrounding her. Damon cried out, but both Stefan and Claire stopped him from going anywhere near the fire. Damon pleaded, he shouted…he tried to do anything to stop the possessed witch from burning the crystal around her neck. All of a sudden, there was a cry of the possessed witch's real name, but Claire didn't have time to worry about that. Stefan went after the girl who cried out Bonnie's name, and Claire held Damon back from the fire. But the crystal was launched into the air, displaying a burst of fire, and Damon cried out for it as hot sparks floated to the ground as a result.

The fire soon went out, leaving the world around them dark. Claire relaxed her hold on Damon, seeing as everything was now over, but he didn't stop there. She wasn't fast enough to restrain him, and Damon flashed forward and bit into the witch's neck inside the now useless circle, and the witch screamed loudly as a result. As soon as it happened, Claire flashed forward and forced Damon off of the witch with the help of Stefan who later joined in.

"You're _insane_!" Claire shouted as they looked over the body of the witch that wasn't to blame for this. As quickly as Stefan realized what happened, he bent down and checked for a sign of life and began to save her. "Do you _realize _what all this can cause? What bringing _her _back can cause?"

"You always hated her," Damon snarled. "You wouldn't understand!"

"I have a right to hate her!" Claire shouted at him, her teeth gritted. "For a good reason, too, Damon." He fell completely silent at this, and she just shook her head. "You have _major _issues Damon—_major _issues."

Damon gave a bitter laugh. "Nothing we didn't know _before_."

"Her neck," the teenage girl exclaimed as she watched the wound heal from Stefan's vampire blood. "It's healing."

After everything had calmed down and Damon went to be off in peace, Elena led the frightened witch into her car, attempting to ease some of her worries until they reached home. Once her friend was inside, she approached Stefan and Claire, who were waiting for her to come over to them. As soon as Elena reached them, she spoke, "Is she in danger of becoming a—"

"No," Stefan said immediately. "No, she has to die with my blood in her system, so keep an eye on her tonight and make sure that nothing happens and once it leaves her system, she'll be fine."

Elena nodded before inhaling and turning to Claire. "I-I'm sorry…who are you?"

"Elena, this is Clarissa—Claire," Stefan corrected himself as he introduced Claire to Elena, the uncanny Katherine look-alike. Claire was staring at her in a way that she was _sure _made Elena feel uncomfortable, but…she just couldn't help herself. Just looking at Elena made her angry, but she had to hone in on the girl's heartbeat to stop herself. "She's my friend from back in eighteen sixty-four, she just…came for a visit. Claire, this is Elena."

Elena nodded, and this time, Claire spoke. "All right, well, Stefan, I'm going to head back to the house now," she said softly. Stefan nodded.

"I'll be back soon," he promised, and with that said, Claire gave Elena a small smile.

"Nice to meet you…Elena."

"You, too."

* * *

Damon had spent most of his night out in the woods, feeding on his own sorrow. The crystal was gone and he had no way of getting Katherine back, so he would now leave—at least, that's what he told his brother. So, with his depressed emotions, he made his way back to the house to find Clarissa in his room. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. "You made yourself clear, now get out before I have to make you leave."

"You think that was me making myself clear back there?" she scoffed, standing up from the foot of his bed. "Damon, you have _no _idea what I mean when I say that I will _not _have Katherine back to ruin my life."

"Well, you won't have to worry about it now, will you?" Damon shot her a bitter smile as he stripped his jacket and she watched. The sight of her staring made him remember that she wasn't just an enemy, and at this, he smirked to conceal his pain. "So are we going to start or do you want to yell at me some more?"

"_Tonight_?" Claire asked, looking at him incredulously. "You want to do this _tonight_? You're a complete mess!"

Damon shrugged. "Give it a couple minutes, I'll find…_some _way to get over it," he said, eyeing the clothing he wanted so badly to strip. She scoffed.

"Well, you certainly bounce back fast."

"Yeah, but you knew that already."

"You know, you're a real _asshole_," she said as he neared her, but she didn't flinch once. "Do you know how _angry _you made me tonight? Not just me, but your brother, too?" Damon rolled his eyes.

"I thought we agreed not to talk about him."

"Hard not to talk about him when you're his brother and I'm his best friend."

Damon frowned. "You were my best friend once."

Claire scoffed again. "Yeah, those were the days. I distinctly remember you stealing all of my food and getting me in trouble for everything. That vase was the last straw. You make me _sick_."

"The feeling is mutual." But, as a contradiction to those words, Damon pulled his shirt over his head, intent on getting what he wanted. "I don't suppose I can persuade you to believe that I wasn't the one who broke that vase?"

"Absolutely not. You're a natural born liar." But, despite her words, he caught her staring with lust at him. The second her eyes flickered up to meet his, he could see that she was done arguing with him.

Damon looked down at her, and she flickered her gaze up at him. "You want to shut up now?" His hand extended and his fingers grazed the hem of her shirt, giving her the slightest touch on her torso. The touch was light and barely noticeable, but it made her spine shudder.

She thought to protest against his obvious efforts to get her in his bed, but after much thought she decided against fighting him. Damon just made her so..._angry. _When Claire became angry, she was blinded by emotions that crept their way in to replace the rage. So, she just took his hand and pulled it up so that her shirt was dragged with it, and he took that as his answer.

And, as usual, there was no more talking.

* * *

**Pretty dysfunctional, huh? Do they hate each other? Do they like each other? We just will never know. ****Well, _I_ know, of course ;)**

**More will be coming soon! Please review if you can!  
**

_**Love, **_

_**BellaSalvatore1918**_

_**X**_


	2. The Turning Point

**Hey, everyone. I know I just updated this story like a few days ago, but this chapter was so short and easy to do, I figured I'd just get it over with. So it's not a long chapter, but it's all I could fit in for now. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)**

* * *

**The Turning Point**

Claire was lounging on the couch in the parlor, turning a page of one of the books she'd found on a shelf in the library. She sat in silence with Damon, who was staring out the window, letting himself bask in the sun on his skin with a glass of bourbon in his hand.

"Do me a favor, Damon?" Stefan sighed as he entered the room, freshly dressed for the day. "Try and keep the girls you bring home quiet. I couldn't sleep last night." Damon smirked to himself, but neither Claire or Damon shared any secret glance towards each other to give it away.

She merely turned the page of her book and said, "I heard it, too, Stefan, and I don't think it was just the girl screaming."

Damon scoffed to himself, but then snuck a glance at his brother, who was at the threshold between another room and the one they stood in. "Doesn't matter, anyways. I thought we agreed upon leaving."

Stefan nodded. "We did," he said, almost sternly. "So…any idea of where you'll go?"

"I don't know." Damon shrugged, turning back to the window and sighing. "London, maybe? See some friends…"

Claire snapped her head up and looked at Stefan as he rounded the couch in her view. She gave Stefan an alarmed glance, silently begging him to talk Damon out of going to London. With a slight smile, Stefan responded, "You don't have any friends, Damon."

"You're right, Stefan. I only have you, so…" He turned around. "Where are we goin'?"

Claire accidentally let a laugh burst from her lips. "That's funny, Damon, because _you _are not joining _me _and _Stefan _wherever _we_ go," she said, putting emphasis on the correct words as she pointed to her subjects.

"But we're a team, guys!" Damon mocked, which earned Stefan to hang his head and Claire to roll her eyes. "Don't you remember? The Salvatore brothers and the King girl! Every kid on the _block _wished they had a friendship like we did."

"Did," Claire pointed out, earning Damon's attention. "Key word there. _Did_."

"We are going to live our lives as far away from _you _as possible," Stefan added on, giving his brother a light smile. Damon frowned.

"But we could travel the world together! We could try out for _The Amazing Race,_" he suggested lightly, looking between Claire and Stefan for any sign of laughter.

Claire just flipped a page of her book and sighed, "Been there, done that." She looked up at him. "You didn't get the postcard?"

"Seriously," Stefan said, the urgency tracing his tone when his brother's attention was pulled back to him. "Where are you going? Because we're _not _staying in this town."

Before Damon was able to answer his brother's question, the old-fashioned bell at the boarding house door rang promptly, stopping all conversation. Claire, who was as confounded as Stefan and Damon, put down her book and swung her legs off of the couch to walk over to them. "Are we expecting company?"

"No…" Stefan trailed off, wrinkling his forehead before walking over to the door to answer it. Damon and Claire both looked at each other for a split moment before trying to make their way over to the door as well.

"I'm here to see Damon," Sheriff Forbes told Stefan when he answered the door.

Stefan, though still confused, nodded. "Uh…sure. Okay." As he said the last word, Damon and Claire approached his side. Though Damon knew who it was at the door, as did Stefan, Claire didn't. But the words on the visitor's jacket spelled it all out for her.

"Sheriff," Damon said curtly. "What a surprise."

"Sorry to bother you, but…we need to talk," she said cryptically. Stefan and Claire were still confused, but Damon just nodded and shrugged.

"Come in," he said politely and stepped aside, letting the Sheriff through the threshold. He closed the door behind her and the Sheriff walked into the middle part of the foyer, where Stefan and Claire waited. Sheriff Forbes turned to Claire and her eyebrows raised.

"Who's this?" Liz asked as Damon approached her from over her shoulder.

"Claire King," Claire said, giving the Sheriff her best warm smile. She held out her hand and the Sheriff took it gracefully, but was still skeptical. "I, uh…I'm just visiting here."

"King?" Liz said, slowly realizing. "Are you a Founding Family here?"

"Why, yes I am," Claire said, giving the Sheriff a brighter smile. Though she was anything _but _innocent, she always found it easy to make people believe so. "You might know my grandfather. Jack King? He died a few weeks ago."

Though she hated Mystic Falls, she was never one to not keep up with family affairs. Truth be told, she hated Jack King. He was a bitter old man who was descended from a line of bastards—her father, who couldn't keep his hands off of a pretty woman for his life, had at least two more children with different women. But he was married to her mother, and she was their only child since the age of eighteen, when her sister, Amelia, ran away from home. When Claire turned, she kept a close eye on her parents, and they eventually died of old age.

"That's right," Liz said, nodding her head up and down. "Jack King. He was a member of the Council." She paused. "Are you planning on staying here for a while?"

Claire glanced over at Stefan, but she eventually turned back to Liz with a light laugh. "Well, nothing's definite," she said evasively.

Liz gave another nod. "Well, if you do plan on staying here, you should stop by City Hall sometime. I'm sure Damon can fill you in on what's been going on in Mystic Falls." Claire nodded hopefully, and Liz turned to Damon. "Speaking of…" She turned to the vampire beside her. "Damon?"

"Of course. Here, let's go outside," Damon said, giving Liz a signature smile before leading her in the direction of the patio. Stefan and Claire watched as Damon led Sheriff Forbes away from them, but he knew that they would be listening to the conversation. There was obviously something wrong in Mystic Falls, yet again.

"Um, I hope you don't mind the secrecy," Damon apologized to the Sheriff as they walked outside and he shut the patio door. "Stefan doesn't know about this yet and Claire prefers to be kept out of it when she can. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course," agreed Sheriff Forbes. "Kids are too young to be brought into this, and people shouldn't have to be if they don't want to."

With a nod, Damon continued, "So, what do you need?"

Sheriff Forbes took in a breath. "There's been another attack," she said, her voice somber. "A female victim, her throat torn out, completely drained of blood. It fits the pattern."

Damon knotted his eyebrows. "I-I'm sorry. I don't understand. I thought I already solved the problem…" He didn't dare mention staking Lexi because he knew Claire and Stefan were listening from inside.

Sheriff Forbes shrugged. "She must've turned someone. Or multiple someones. I don't know."

Inside, Stefan and Claire sat on the couch in the parlor, listening intently to the conversation. Stefan turned to Claire and raised his eyebrows at her. "Did you…?"

Claire shook her head. "No, I'm perfectly fine on blood bags," she whispered, but they knew what this meant instantly—it was Damon.

Outside, Sheriff Forbes continued, "The story for the town is another animal attack, but I'm not sure how long we can keep lying to them. The Council's in an uproar. We thought we were past this."

Damon was silent, but eventually, he nodded. "Okay…so…so what do we do?" He tried his best at playing the timid little human, and because of his inflated ego, he wasn't really amazed at his acting skills.

"You're the only one who's ever taken on a vampire," Sheriff Forbes said. "We were hoping you could tell us."

Claire turned to Stefan, her eyes curious. "Damon staked a vampire for the Council?" Stefan nodded, but he didn't dare say anything else. "Do you know who it was?"

Stefan shook his head. "It was someone we'd never seen before. Damon probably turned her to be the patsy for his mistake." He was lying through his teeth now, but he didn't care. The consequences of Claire finding out was more dangerous than lying to her.

After Damon and the Sheriff finished their "secret" conversation, Damon held the door open for her and gave her a reserved smile.

"Thank you for stopping by."

Sheriff Forbes nodded. "Let me know what you come up with."

"Absolutely," agreed Damon. Liz turned around to Claire, who was on the couch with Stefan.

"It was nice to meet you, Claire," she said with a hopeful smile. Claire rose from her position and nodded, giving off her innocence again.

"Yeah, you too," she said warmly, and watched as Sheriff Forbes exited the Salvatore house. As soon as the door was shut and Liz was away from it, there was a flash, and Stefan was at Damon's throat, holding him against the door by his weak strength.

As soon as Damon's back thumped against the wood, Claire flashed up to them both and watched as Stefan growled, "What is wrong with you? You killed somebody?"

Damon released himself from Stefan's hold, pushing his brother away from him. "Get off of me," he snarled. "A—don't touch me. B—if I had, I wouldn't have been so _obvious _about it. C—there's another vampire in town."

Stefan was quiet for a moment. "That's impossible."

"Obviously _not_," Damon said lightly as he turned away from Stefan and Claire. Claire just held up her hand and shook her head.

"Okay, okay, then who is it? Who would be _dumb _enough to leave a body like that in the middle of the street?"

Damon sighed, exasperated. "Ah, what do we care? We're leaving anyway, right?"

"No, I _can't _leave now and you _know _that," Stefan retorted in an obvious tone when he stepped closer to his brother, who was turned away from him. "How are we supposed to find this person?"

Claire scoffed. "If this vampire is dumb enough to leave a body in that condition, there must be a trail of them _somewhere. _It's probably a newbie. Shouldn't be that hard to track," she promised, placing a hand on Stefan's arm. "Look, I'll take care of it, okay? You should probably just make sure Elena's safe."

"No, _I'll _take care of it," Damon retorted, turning around to face Claire, who just scoffed and crossed her arms. "And I don't need your help."

"I wasn't asking if you _wanted _help, Damon, I was _telling _you that I will handle this so Stefan and I could leave…_without you_."

"Honestly," Stefan snapped, looking between both of them. "Can't you just work together? It's not that hard."

Damon, without removing his eyes from Claire, spoke, "Let the adults handle this, Stefan."

"Really?" Stefan returned, his eyes wide. "Because, right now, you two are acting like children." Neither vampire said anything. "Work together on this. Twice the strength, faster the kill. Okay?" No one answered him, so Stefan answered it himself. "Okay. I'm going to go find Elena," he said quickly before turning, brushing past Claire, and exiting the household.

Damon and Claire stood staring at each other for a long time. "You _did _scream loudly, though," he pointed out, a small smirk on his face.

She gave him a copycat smile. "I wasn't the only one."

* * *

"This is the most useless piece of _garbage _I have ever seen!" Claire said, frustrated, as she threw down the vampire-tracking device that Damon had given her so they could track the new vampire without delay. The compass's handle wouldn't stop flickering between her position and Damon's position until it became violent, spazzing out of control at the magnetic force pulling it to vampires. "How the _hell _are we supposed to track a vampire when it won't stop flickering between us?"

Damon thought to himself, but suddenly, he had an idea. "Easy," he said and snatched the watch up from her hand. She gave an offended sound, but he closed the watch and pulled out his phone. "We get a human to do it for us."

Damon had called Caroline Forbes, a perky high school teenager who was apparently best friends with Elena. According to Damon, he'd been compelling her ever since his return to Mystic Falls. At first, he attempted to be her boyfriend, but then, after Elena intervened, he'd just used her as someone to compel and manipulate.

"You are _all _class," Claire scoffed at him as the bell run on the front door for the second time. Claire answered the door this time, and her presence was greeted with a confused look on Caroline's face. "Caroline Forbes?"

"Yeah…" Caroline trailed off. "Who are you?"

"Claire King," she said quickly, not wasting time on the introduction. "Come on, Damon and I have something for you to do."

Damon met Caroline in the foyer as she walked inside, and when she saw him, Caroline sighed. Still under the compulsion, she was obliged to do what he said, but that didn't mean she had to like him. "What did you want me over here for?"

Damon just gave a wide grin before looking into her eyes and beginning the compulsion. "I need you to take this"—he held out the compass and placed it in her zombie-like hand—"and track a vampire for me. After you leave here, go to the town square and begin from here. Call me when it's done, all right?"

Caroline piped up. "Okay," she agreed, and gripped the compass in her hand before turning and seeing herself out on her own.

When she was gone, Damon sighed inwardly and Claire just stared after the seemingly perfect high school girl. "So, are you trying to be a pedophile now or is it just a phase?" she questioned, turning to him and glaring into his sea-colored eyes with curiosity.

"_She _came on to _me_," Damon defended himself pointedly. "Sort of like you," he added.

Claire laughed. "Is _that _what you think?"

"No, it's what I _know_."

"Let's not forget who kissed _me _first," Claire pointed out firmly, to which Damon instantly shut up. "Yeah, that's right. Don't say anything. Because we both know it's true."

"Well, I was talking about when we started our little…arrangement," he trailed off, his eyes skimming over the length of her body. Claire sighed.

"All right, I'll concede to that," she agreed, mumbling. Damon's lips curled up in a victorious smile. "But you _know _it all really began with that kiss."

Damon sighed, his eyes moving from her face down her curves and to her feet. "Yeah, I guess you're right." All of a sudden, his hands reached out and he gripped her hips violently, his fingers creating a bruise that would eventually heal through the slight strip of skin that had shown as a result of his violent jerk. "How long do you think it'll take Caroline to find the vampire?"

"Long enough," Claire said sharply before used her steady fingers to rip open all of the button's on Damon's shirt without a single one popping off.

Caroline had called by the time they had both wrapped up and Claire poured herself a drink. They were in the middle of an argument about where Damon would go when he picked up his phone and heard Caroline say that she had found the vampire. After he told her of the address, Caroline sighed, _"So what do I do now?" _

Damon jerked his head in the position of the door as he slipped on his leather jacket and opened the door. He walked out first and Claire walked out behind him while he responded, "Just wait. We'll be there in a minute."

"_Can you hurry? I have things to do." _

Damon and Claire both appeared at the warehouse in which Caroline had found the vampire, and Damon stood before the blonde teenager and said in a low voice, "You can give me that."

He took the compass out of Caroline's hand and she spoke, "So why did you need me to do this?"

"Because Claire and I interfere with the signal," Damon answered vaguely as he silenced the compass and closed it.

Caroline, who was annoyed by his evasiveness and indifference towards her, sighed, "Can I go now? This has blown, like, _half _of my day."

"Oh my God," Claire breathed out in amazement. Damon looked at her, confused. "It's like a human, teenage version of _me_. I can just _smell _the hatred for you."

Damon gave Claire a childish glance before turning back to Caroline and pouring his eyes into hers, "Leave. Get in your car. Go home. Forget I asked you to do this."

Caroline took a moment, but then straightened. "Okay," she said cheerfully, giving him a girlish shrug. "Bye now."

"Bye," Damon returned and looked back at Claire. "Really? _Caroline Forbes _reminds you of yourself? Please."

"Well, not with the whole preppy…teenage girl thing," Claire admitted, shrugging, "but yeah. Too bad Stefan wants to leave this place," she mumbled.

"I thought you hated Mystic Falls."

"I do," Claire returned. "_Especially _with you in it. It's just…there's something about coming home after such a long time. It's refreshing."

Damon sighed. "Well, I for one, can't wait to get the hell out of here," he mumbled to himself before turning to her on the staircase. "Wait here just in case," he ordered.

Without waiting for her response, Damon walked up the rest of the stairs, pulled open the door, and shut it as quickly as he opened it. Claire thought about going inside with him, but he was probably right. If she went inside and something happened, both of them would be screwed. So, she waited outside, and that's when she heard the first sign of trouble.

The sound of the bullets being fired made her cringe, but she wasn't stupid enough to pull open the door and walk into the lion's den. When she heard Damon's distinct cry, she knew that there was something wrong. Her blonde hair whipped in the wind as she desperately looked around for another entrance near her. Seeing none, she jogged off of the staircase and briskly walked to the other side of the building, all while hearing the conversation inside. Another bullet fired, and Damon screamed again. It was when the conversation between the mad man shooting Damon continued when she finally found a door that led inside through the back way.

"_How should I know?" _she heard inside—the voice of an angry, newborn vampire. _"The last thing I remember is I'm about to stake your brother, and then you grabbed me. That's it!" _Slowly, Claire broke the lock on the door, making sure it was silent enough for the newborn vampire to not hear. Swiftly, she entered the abandoned warehouse, complete with spider-webs and unwanted rodents.

"Somebody buried me," the mad vampire continued. She could see this vampire and Damon now—Damon was on the floor, picking out the wooden bullets, and the vampire was crouched beside him.

"It happens," Damon breathed out before pulling out another bullet in his side. "Ow."

"You bit me. It had to be you."

"You have to have vampire blood in your system when you die," Damon snapped. "I didn't do that. Some other vampire found you. Gave you their blood." Damon groaned and slumped against the floor, weak.

"Who?"

"That's what I wanna know!"

"Dude, it's not like the Welcome Wagon was waiting with a Bundt Cake and a handbook!" The vampire shouted. "It's been a learn-as-you-go process!"

_Blah, blah, blah, here's your pity party, _Clarissa rolled her eyes as she crept around a shelf to get a better view of the situation. The vampire droned on and on about how he was turned, but he knew nothing of real pain. Real pain was being _forced _to feed against your will with no way out of it. He _obviously _had a choice, and he just chose the wrong one.

After the vampire was done feeding on his own bad situation, Damon suddenly put two and two together. The vampire had told him that he had been killing people left and right, a normal reaction to becoming a new vampire. "Wait a minute," Damon said, shaking his head as much as he could. "The cops only found one body."

"I left one," the vampire snarled. "I was tired. But I've been hiding the rest of the bodies." Without turning he pointed in a different direction. "They're right back there!"

Damon gave an annoyed expression. "You're kidding," he muttered as he looked in the direction.

"They're just piling up."

Claire turned to the direction this vampire pointed in as well, and she was repulsed at the sight. Sure, as a vampire, you kill people, but you had to be one sadistic, clueless _prick _to just pile on bodies in an abandoned warehouse. There were so many other ways to cover a vampire's tracks—hiding bodies one on top of another wasn't an option. Fires…animal attacks…even hiding the body somewhere with the bite mark covered up was an option! This vampire was going to get them all killed before they had time to leave Mystic Falls.

A silence passed over Damon and the vampire, and Clarissa watched as the vampire sighed and sat down next to Damon. She didn't make a move yet, because the vampire had the upper hand with his gun.

"Why am I so overly emotional?" the vampire asked Damon quietly. "All I can think about is my ex-girlfriend. I wanna…be with her and bite her and stuff."

_Please, _Clarissa scoffed in her thoughts.

Damon's tone surprised her when he answered. She thought he would've said something witty and snide, but instead, he shrugged. "Well, you probably love her. Anything you felt before will be magnified now." He became serious. "You're gonna have to learn how to control that."

"What about walking in the sun? I'm a morning person." Unconsciously, Claire let her thumb skim over her own daylight ring that Emily made for her against Katherine's wishes. Emily Bennett witnessed her whole transformation and, sickened by Katherine's ruthless act over a slight hint of jealousy, she protected Claire against the councilmen from suspecting she was a vampire. The ring was fit with a lapis lazuli stone and an antiquated bronze metal that wrapped around her finger. Damon and Stefan's rings were almost the same, but they had a silver metal and a family crest on theirs.

"You can walk in the sun," continued the vampire, "which, by the way, is pretty cool. Council'd never suspect you." Claire saw Damon twist his own ring so that it didn't show on his hand. "That's not in the journals."

"The journals?" Damon questioned.

"Yeah, the Founding Fathers…they passed down journals to their kids—come on, man. You gotta tell me. How can you walk around in the sun?"

Damon was hesitant. "Who turned you?"

"How do you walk in the sun?" the vampire snarled.

"Who turned you?"

The vampire was now getting agitated. "You know, I've been _really _nice so far. But I _will _kill you." He got up from his feet, and at this, Claire braced herself to make a move. It wouldn't so bad if Damon was hurt, but she wasn't just going to let him die at the hands of _this _oblivious asshole.

Damon snarled, "Then you'll never know." Damon rose himself, but the gun harboring wooden bullets was still pointed at him in silence. "You're not answering my question."

"You first!"

"Seems we're at a bit of an _impasse, _then, doesn't it?"

"I have things to do. People to kill. Guess I'll be needing a little head start." The bullets went off three times, and Damon collapsed onto the floor with a loud groan. Before the vampire was able to walk away, she flashed over to him and the sound made the vampire whip around sharply, but she had gained the upper hand. She hit the new vampire with her fist, and since the vampire was surprised, it took him a moment to bounce back, at which point, she had flashed and kicked him in the side of the leg. He fired off the bullets again, but they were nowhere near her. She was pretty sure that one of them actually hit Damon, according to his yelp.

Seeing that he had no chance against the blonde intruder, the new vampire fled faster than he had hoped for, and she stared after him with a sigh and looked down to see Damon right at her feet, his breathing quick and injured.

"You couldn't have jumped in any sooner?" Damon growled and rolled over. Claire shrugged.

"Well, I mean, it's not like he was going to _kill _you. We both know that." She paused. "Plus, it was kind of fun to watch."

* * *

Damon was pissed by the time he came home, but not at Claire, at Logan Fell, who was the vampire who shot him over six times with tiny wooden bullets. Damon had heard from Stefan that this Logan character was at the school, and immediately, het set out for revenge. Claire went with him and planned to end this vampire once and for all, because now _they _had the upper hand. Damon had grabbed a gun full of wooden bullets on his way out the door.

Stefan had told them where, exactly, Logan was, and they met up with Stefan on Elm Street, where a car was passing. It stopped at the stop sign oh-so-domestically, and at the opportunity, Stefan yanked Logan out of the car and threw him on the street. When Logan bounced back, Damon, who stood right beside his brother, held the gun up, pointed at Logan, and shot effortlessly, a sadistic smile on his face.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

Logan struggled on the floor, and Damon turned back to Stefan. "Get her out of here," he ordered, gesturing to Caroline, who had been in the car with Logan when they stopped them. She was knocked unconscious, a bloodstain on the window. Damon studied Logan on the concrete, but there was a sound inside of the door.

"_Logan, what happened? Logan!" _

Claire jumped at the sound, reaching inside the car to find an open cell phone on the driver's seat. She clearly recognized Sheriff Forbes's voice, and so she answered in the best-distressed voice she could muster. "S-Sheriff, it's Claire."

"_Claire? Where's Caroline?" _

"She's all right. Damon and I stopped the vampire. We're on Elm Street."

"_I'll be there soon," _she said quickly, and Claire hung up the phone as a result. She turned to find Damon smiling as she bounced over to the trunk and opened it, all the while keeping an eye on Logan. He found a tire iron and set to work with it.

"We're gonna try this _one _more time," he said lightly and swung the crowbar like it was a baseball bat. "Who turned you?"

Logan winced in pain, "I told you, I don't know."

Damon examined the tire iron in his hand. "This tire iron here could take your head clean off," he warned, but it was in the snide tone that Claire expected earlier. "Is that your final answer?" Damon braced to swing the tire iron at Logan's head.

"How can you side with them?"

"I don't side with anyone," Damon returned coldly. "You pissed me off, I want you dead."

"Just kill him, Damon," Claire sighed, crossing her arms. "The town won't be safe until we do."

"The town won't be safe until we figure out who turned him, Clarissa," Damon sung, turning back to her before returning to face Logan. With a pause, he continued, "Who turned you?"

"I don't know!" Logan insisted.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Oh, well. You're screwed." He braced to swing the tire iron again, but this time, Logan screamed.

"Wait! I do know!" He put his hand up to stop the iron from hitting him.

"You're lying."

Logan's voice was desperate now, "You think you're the only one who wants to get into that tomb underneath the old church?" Clarissa and Damon both stopped cold, and as she stiffened, Damon softened.

"If you are lying to me, I will _end _you," Damon growled.

"I am not lying," Logan pushed. "There's another way to break the spell. We can help you."

"Damon, don't you _dare_," Claire snapped, stepping forward to him and Logan. "Don't do it, Damon, don't—" The sound of sirens covered their ears, and she was interrupted by Logan.

"Meet me at the old church," he said desperately.

"Damon, _no_," Claire snapped, but Damon kept her away from Logan as he spoke.

"Take us down. Make it look real. Make it look real."

But, with the Sheriff in sight, Claire couldn't retaliate when Damon swiped the tire iron at Logan carelessly and Logan snapped back by pushing the both of them back against the vehicle he had arrived in. Sheriff Forbes rushed out of the car and up to them. "Damn it, Damon," Claire whispered to him as the pain in her back from the impact began to fade.

"Where is she?" Sheriff Forbes asked quickly.

"She's okay," Damon responded. "My brother's taken her home." Claire slumped against the car as Damon stood from his position. "I'm sorry Sheriff. I just wasn't strong enough," he complained, and Claire felt like screaming at him, but she couldn't in front of the human. Every part of her twitched with rage, and Damon was fully aware of this fact when they were released by the other cops that raided the vehicle for any sign of a clue.

When Claire turned around to find Damon, she knew that he had already left.

* * *

It was around half an hour after Logan had told Damon to meet him at the old church when Damon finally arrived in the cemetery, slowly making his way towards the church to hear Logan out. He kept the gun with the wooden bullets by his side just in case the bastard tried anything against him.

A ringing sound brought Damon out of his solitude, and he answered his phone with a single word, "Hello?"

"_I just wanted to say thank you,_" Liz said to Damon on the other side of the line. _"I don't know how you did it." _

"Uh…not following," Damon trailed off, puzzled.

"_We found Logan's body out by the old Fell warehouse. It's been disposed of. He was hoarding victims, innocent victims." _

"What?" But he wasn't surprised of that, he was more surprised of the death of the man who was supposed to help him bring Katherine back.

"_This town owes you so much. So do I." _With that, Sheriff Forbes hung up the phone, and Damon stood despaired on top of the old church.

"I thought you were done with this stupid quest to bring her back."

Damon turned to face Claire, who emerged out of two trees. He looked at her with eyes that were both angry and sorrowful.

"No," he returned. "I said you wouldn't have to worry about it because the crystal was destroyed. If there's another way to bring Katherine back, I'm going to do it." Without waiting for her to respond to his confession, Damon began to walk away from the forest, but Claire wasn't letting him off so easy.

"This woman ruined _both _of our lives, Damon!" Claire snapped, bringing him to a stop. "She not only turned _me _into a vampire, but she turned _you. _We both know that you miss being human."

Damon turned around and stared at her for what felt like an eternity, the reflection of the full moon shining her beautiful, long blonde hair and shining her grey eyes. He thought, for just a second, that maybe she was right.

Then again, she was always wrong according to him.

To shut her up, Damon flashed up to her and snapped her neck, unaffected by his actions, and caught her as her lifeless body began to fall into his arms. He pulled her up onto his body and walked out of the forest, her lightweight in his arms, and, for a moment, he thought about dropping her off at the boarding house.

Instead, he put her in the passenger seat of his car and felt around the pockets of her clothes, looking for leverage. He knew he always kept it on her…

_Bingo, _Damon thought to himself when he felt the material of the small photo in the inside pocket of her jacket. When he pulled it out, he could clearly make out the face of two teenage girls labeled: _Clarissa and Amelia, 1860_

With a vindictive smile, Damon slipped the picture into his pocket and shut the door of his car.

* * *

**Just so you all know, I have Driver's Ed for the next two weeks every day until 5:30 after school. Since I'm getting home so late and I most likely will have homework, there's a _slim _chance I'll be able to update during the week. And next weekend, I have a lot of stuff to do, but I will try my hardest to update 1 or 2 stories of mine. Just be warned that the next two weeks will be sort of radio-silent for me. Hopefully, I can carve some time to write. **

**But summer's coming up soon so just hold on a little longer! Actually, I'm the one who needs to hold on. A few more weeks of school...**

**Anyways, hope you liked the chapter. I'll update as soon as I find the time! Review if you can. **

**_Love, _  
**

**_BellaSalvatore1918_**

**_X_**


	3. Bloodlines

**Hey, guys. This is the longest chapter I've ever written. It took me over the last week to do. We see a slight glimpse into Claire and Damon's past in Mystic Falls, but this is only the beginning, believe it or not. Anyways, since it's such a long chapter, I hate doing long Author's Notes with it so...enjoy the chapter! Review at the end if you can!**

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)**

* * *

**Bloodlines**

**Mystic Falls, 1858**

_A burst of giggles sounded behind Marianne King as she and her two daughters stood in the town's apothecary, talking to the other townsmen. Marianne turned sharply and hushed her girls, and they both stiffened at the scold. _

"_Go outside, Clarissa," Marianne told her eldest daughter, who straightened as she'd been taught. "Take your sister with you." _

_The young, sixteen-year-old Clarissa King nodded, and with her hands respectfully folded by her stomach, she picked up her skirt and walked highly out of the apothecary with her sister by her side. They both stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight and listened as the birds chirped in the crisp air around them. _

"_Clarissa?" _

"_Yes, Amelia?" _

"_Why is Mother talking to Jonathan Gilbert?" Amelia asked, her voice sweet and childishly mature for an eleven-year-old. Clarissa turned to see her mother in deep conversation with John, but she didn't know what the conversation was about. Amelia was too busy distracting her with stories from school for her to pay attention. _

"_I'm not sure," Clarissa said simply, turning her head to her sister. Amelia was a small girl, petite and light, with blonde hair a lot more saturated than Clarissa's. But, despite their minor differences, the girls looked the same when it came to the small things—Marianne would dress them alike and braid their hair alike, things of that nature. In fact, they both wore a single-fashioned side braid that exampled their torso-length hair. "I'm sure Mother has her reasons."_

_The five-year age gap was a major difference, yes, but that never stopped Clarissa and Amelia from being the closest friends within the family. They shared everything together; sometimes to a point where it was too much. But, though Amelia was her friend at home, she had her own friend outside of her quarters. _

"_Look, Clarissa!" Amelia smiled, looking towards the direction of two boys heading their way. "It's the Salvatore boys!" _

_Amelia had developed a schoolgirl crush on Stefan, and Clarissa was almost positive Stefan felt the same way. Though, Amelia had her own friends, and she spent much of her time with them than with Stefan and Damon Salvatore. It was on occasion when she would join Clarissa, Damon, and Stefan's group, and though she kept this schoolgirl crush on Stefan, she had at least three other boys lined up right after him. Clarissa was very aware that her little sister would grow up to be quite the heartbreaker. _

"_Calm down, Amelia. There's nothing to get over-worked about," Clarissa warned her just as Damon and Stefan approached them, and their father went inside the apothecary. Clearing her throat, she said with a raised voice, "Besides. It _is _only Stefan and Damon." _

"Only_ Stefan and Damon?" Damon mused to her, coming up to their side. Clarissa turned to him now, paying no attention to her little sister and Damon's little brother smiling idiotically at each other. "You've wounded me, Miss King."_

"_I reckon you can handle the pain, Mister Salvatore," she retorted in a light tone. Damon, though nineteen now, still kept positions with his childhood best friend, as did his twelve-year-old brother. But Stefan's presence was merely a courtesy to the young boy who wanted to be so much like his brother that he practically clung to Damon's leg. _

_The eldest children stared at each other for a while, their eyes getting mixed up in the sea of colors that floated around them. Amusing smiles crossed each other's faces, and they—for just a moment—forgot their surroundings. _

"_Boys," a harsh voice snapped, making Damon flinch along with Stefan, who had been conversing politely with Amelia, who was still by Clarissa's side. Clarissa, Damon, Stefan, and Amelia all looked to see Giuseppe Salvatore standing firmly with his hands placed behind his back. "We must come back later. Mrs. King is with Mr. Gilbert. Say goodbye to her girls now, we'll see them for dinner," he barked._

_Giuseppe turned his back for a moment so that they could all give their temporary goodbyes. Stefan gave a shy bow and Amelia gave a similarly shy curtsey, but Damon and Clarissa weren't so reserved. Damon took Clarissa's hand in his and pressed his lips gently to it, a smile riding on his face. "Goodbye, Clarissa. Until later." _

"_Goodbye, Damon," she said in return, and watched as he released her hand and walked with his little brother behind his father, who led them back to the Salvatore plantation. _

* * *

Claire awoke with a start, hitting the confinements of her seatbelt as she gasped back to life in the front seat of Damon's moving vehicle. The vampire driving beside her did not flinch at her sudden movement, but rather glanced over at her and smiled. "Morning, sunshine."

"What the…" Claire trailed off, gasping for air as she slowly began to remember what happened to her. Damon waited, anxious, as she snapped her head at him and her eyes flashed with a certain rage. "You snapped my neck!" she roared.

"Easy," Damon hushed her, jerking his finger behind him. "We're not alone."

"What the hell are you—" Claire turned around to see that they were, indeed, _not _alone. In the backseat, with her head rolled to the side, was the Katherine look-alike—Elena. Claire widened her eyes as she looked back at Damon. "You _kidnapped _Stefan's girlfriend?"

"I didn't kidnap her," Damon defended himself. "She was in a car crash. Someone was going to take her. I _saved _her," he said pointedly.

"Well, aren't you a regular _hero_," the blonde vampire snapped through her teeth. She looked outside to the moving buildings around her and raised her eyebrows. "Where the hell are we?"

"Georgia," Damon sung happily, which caused Claire to turn her head sharply, once again.

"_Georgia_? You kidnapped me and Elena and you took us to _Georgia? _Who put a stupid chip in your brain?" Damon only smiled at her anger, but she only was enraged by it. Leaning over, Claire jerked the wheel. "Take us back!"

"Ah," Damon said, regaining control of the wheel as he slapped her fingers away. She growled at him, but he was only encouraged by the sound. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph that he had stolen from Claire's pocket while she was out. Claire widened her eyes as she saw what was on the photograph.

"You _asswipe!" _Claire shouted and reached over to grab the picture from his hand. Damon kept it out of her reach as he single-handedly restrained her, happy that _he'd _been the one to have more strength than her. But she wouldn't rest, and Damon nearly lost control of the wheel.

"Hey, hey, hey. This car's a classic. If you make me crash, I will personally drive a stake through your heart."

"You say that like you don't already expect to be _dead _by the time that happens!"

Damon sighed. "If you want the picture back, why don't you be a good little girl, _don't _complain, relax, and just enjoy the ride?" he suggested, turning to her and her scowling face. "When we're back home, I'll give you the photograph."

"You shouldn't have taken the photograph to begin with, Damon!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't leave me with much of a choice," Damon shrugged, shifting in his seat so that he could put the photo away.

Claire crossed her arms. "Yeah, because the first thing a person thinks of to do after temporarily killing someone is to throw them in their car, take their most prized possession, and drive to Georgia with their brother's girlfriend, right?" she said pointedly, which earned another shrug from Damon. "Does Stefan know about this?"

"Uh…seeing as I didn't call him and tell him of my _weekend plans, _I'd say no," Damon scoffed. "Seriously. Relax. It's just for the day…possibly the night. But tomorrow morning at most," he promised.

Claire stared at him incredulously, and then scoffed, slumping back in her seat with her arms still crossed. "You are _unbelievable. _I didn't think you could stoop to such _low _levels before now."

"Oh, come on," Damon laughed, smiling as he turned to her but still kept one eye out for the road. "This can be like our first romantic vacation together. Isn't that sweet?" Claire reached across and slapped his arm hard, earning Damon to entertain her with a light, "Ouch."

She frowned at him. "You're not funny," she warned, and turned her head so that she faced the open window—and from that point on, she remained silent, despite Damon's efforts.

Elena woke up a half an hour later, when they were making their way through the first couple towns in the state of Georgia. Unlike Claire, she didn't awake with a gasp, but rather a groan, and it didn't take her long, either, to figure out that they were in a moving vehicle going somewhere unknown. Damon looked at her through the rearview mirror.

"Morning!" he chirped.

Elena was startled by the voice, but when she realized that it was just Damon, she relaxed. "Where are we?" she asked immediately, feeling her head for the injury that Claire hadn't noticed until now.

Claire sighed. "_Georgia." _

"What?" Elena asked, straightening. "Georgia?" Damon nodded, and she began to panic. "No, no. No, we're not. Seriously, Damon, where are we?"

"Seriously, we're—we're in Georgia," he answered. Elena groaned. "How ya feeling?"

"I…I—"

"There's no broken bones," he assured her. "I checked."

Elena was silent for a moment, but then she began to remember. "My car. There was a man...I hit a man," she realized. "But then he got up and…who was that?"

Damon's voice became serious, "That's what I would like to know," he told her. Claire turned to Damon.

"She was really in a car accident?"

"Well, did you think I was _lying_?"

Claire nodded. "Yes, Damon. I thought you were lying. Because that's what you do, you _lie_." She turned around to face Elena. "Are you all right?"

Elena took a moment to hesitate, but nodded eventually. "I-I'm fine." She paused. "Claire, right?" Claire nodded, and Elena stared at her for a second more before remembering something. She began to pad around her pockets desperately. "Where's my phone?"

At the question, Claire reached into her own pocket and felt around for her cell phone, but found herself enraged when she came up empty. She turned to Damon and widened her eyes in another episode of blind rage, and he just shrugged. "Vacations aren't fun when people know where you are. Takes away from the surprise."

"Okay, Damon, we _really _need to go back," Elena said desperately, her fingers hooking on the side of his driver's seat. "Nobody knows where I am. Pull over," she ordered, but Damon just kept driving. Claire sighed when she realized Damon wouldn't give up. "I mean it, Damon, pull over!" Elena shouted, but he said nothing in return.

"Just stop the damn car, Damon," Claire sighed at him without turning to look over.

At her exasperation and Elena's constant pulling on his seat, Damon groaned. "Oh, you two were _so _much more fun when you both were unconscious!"

He did as asked—pulled his classic sports car over to the side of the road, where he and Claire both got out of the front seats and Claire helped Elena, who had slid over to her side of the car, get out of the backseat. Though it was a challenge for the human, Elena managed to get out of the car with as much ease as she could muster—but she was clearly sore. Claire helped her stay upright, to which Damon inquired, "Are you okay over there?"

Elena nodded and straightened from her dry heave. "I'm fine," she assured him, and was released from Claire's soft grasp. She looked at the blonde vampire, "You didn't see the crash?" she questioned, using her knowledge of the previous conversation to infer that Claire hadn't been taken by her own will, either.

Claire, as expected, shook her head. "Nope. Damon snapped my neck first and then, I guess, he saved you," she said, a certain distaste in her mouth. Elena nodded, feeling lightheaded, and then she began to pace.

"We _have _to go back," Elena said angrily, now speaking to Damon, who groaned.

"Oh, come on. Look, we've already come this far!" he teased, giving her a trademark smirk. Claire just gave him an incredulous glance, but Elena continued on her rant.

"Why are you doing this?" the look-alike questioned. "I can't be in Georgia! I-I wrecked my _car. _I have to go home! This is kidnapping," she accused.

"Tried that," Claire mumbled.

Damon sighed. "God, what is with the _theatrics _around here? You two are being _way _too melodramatic, don't you think?"

"You can't do this," Elena snapped. "I'm _not _going to Georgia."

"Oh, you're in Georgia," Damon retorted, now dropping his light tone. "Without your magic little necklace, I might add," he pointed out, which immediately brought Elena's hand up to her neck. "I could very easily make you…_agreeable_."

Claire turned to Damon, alarmed. "What was in the necklace?" He smirked, silent. "_Vervain_? Did you _take _the vervain necklace from her?"

"N-No," Elena stuttered, stopping Claire from accusing Damon of something she'd done. "I…I took it off. Back at the boarding house," she muttered.

Claire sighed. "Little tip—don't take off the necklace that protects you from being mind-controlled by the undead," she pointed to Elena, but it wasn't rude—it was gentler than anything she'd said all morning. Turning around, she pointed to Damon next and used no gentle words. "As for you, I will beat your ass to a _pulp _if you don't let me and this poor girl go home," she warned.

Damon shook his head. "Can't let you do that."

Claire gave him a sour smile. _"Watch _me." She turned to Elena. "I'll get us out of here, I promise. I'll go to the nearest gas station and call Stefan or something—"

Damon whistled. "Yoohoo," said the taunting vampire, earning Claire to give icy glares as she slowly turned around to see Damon holding the picture he had taken from her jacket, waving it as if it were a trophy. "I think you forgot about this, Clarissa."

Elena raised her eyebrows. "What is that?"

Claire ignored her question. "Give me _one _reason—just _one _reason!—not to rip out your heart and feed it to the squirrels that roam around here!" she shouted at him, and Damon gave a playful smirk, giving her his one reason. "Not good enough," she snarled, but before the conversation could escalate, there was a ringing in Damon's pocket.

Elena straightened, recognizing the ringtone that was so familiar to her, "That's my phone," she said slowly, and Damon just rolled his eyes before pulling it out of his pocket and reading the caller ID.

"Mm," Damon taunted. "It's your boyfriend," he sung. "I'll take it."

Claire straightened against the car that she had resulted to leaning on. Elena stiffened away from the phone, but Claire did no such thing. "Give me the phone, Damon," she held out her hand, but Damon pressed the button to answer the call, all while fighting Claire off.

"Elena's phone."

"_Where is she?" _Stefan snapped on the other side of the line. _"Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?" _

"Elena? She's right here. And, yes, she's fine."

"Damon, give me the phone." Claire fought against the vampire, but his strength was to not be messed with. As Damon fed off of the vein as often as he could, it was Claire's intention to survive on blood bags like a humane vampire. "Damon…give…me…the…_phone_!"

"_Is that Claire?" _Stefan asked, confused. _"Why is she with you?" _

"Oh, she wanted to come along for the joy ride," Damon said, amused with a smile on her face. "We both know how much she _loves_ me."

"_Where are you? Let me speak to Claire." _

Damon, seeing Claire open her mouth, kept the phone between his head and shoulder while he took his two hands and positioned the tips of his fingers at the top of Claire's photograph, and with a slight snap, he tore the outer edge of the frame. Claire winced, and instantly, she shut up. Satisfied, Damon smiled and grabbed the phone again with his hand.

"No can do, brother. I'd be happy to put you on the phone with Elena, though, if you'd like."

Stefan took a moment, but finally answered, _"Put her on." _

Damon, cautious around Claire, held out the phone to Elena, who shook her head and shied away. With a sigh, he put the phone back on his ear. "Yeah…I don't think she wants to talk to you right now."

"_Damon, I swear to God, if you touch her—_"

"You have a good day," Damon cut him off. "Mmhmm. Bye now." With that, Damon hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He then turned to Claire. "Are we clear on what's to happen if you try and get in contact with my brother?"

Claire snarled, "Crystal."

While Claire paced by the car, Elena and Damon talked by the hood of it. Elena tried to convince Damon for all he was worth to turn back, but he wouldn't budge. Eventually, Claire realized that Elena gave in, and she could hear the slight end of their conversation.

"Get in the car," Damon said abrasively. "Come on."

He walked to the driver's seat, and Claire walked up to Elena, who sighed. "You think I can trust him?" Elena asked, her voice low.

Claire laughed bitterly. "Not a chance in hell," she said lightly, and Elena sighed once more before turning around and getting into the car that Damon helped her in. When he shut the door, he saw Claire standing by the hood, her arms crossed and her expression showing nothing but anger. With an agonizing sigh, he walked over to her.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to enjoy this trip, can I?" Damon asked, walking over to her, making sure he was away from the car and out of Elena's hearing range.

Claire straightened as he approached her. "Why'd you have to take the picture, Damon? Why'd you even have to snap my neck? Have you ever thought of _asking _for a change?"

"Would you have come with me if I asked?"

"Hell no!"

"That's my point!" Damon groaned, but it was almost a whine. She waited as he began, "Claire, you are so _uptight _and moody and—"

"What the _hell _did you just call me?"

"Uptight and moody?" Damon reiterated, not bothering to dress it up for her. She scoffed and shook her head. "Come on. Elena's already on board and…I mean, she's like _twice _as uptight as you are."

Claire bit her jaw and turned back to him. "I'm not uptight. You just make me angry, Salvatore."

"That's not the _only _thing I make you," Damon taunted, a growing smirk on his face. Despite her best efforts, Claire was unable to keep the smile off of hers, but she was able to control herself before it got out of control. She covered her amusement up with a nod.

"You've got until tomorrow morning to get us back home," she agreed, compromising. "And, for Stefan's sake, I'm adding this in—if I see you look into Elena's eyes with a wrong intention, you and I will have some _serious_ problems to deal with."

Damon shrugged. "We already have serious problems, sugar. We deal with them, too." The first comment, merely a tease, was overridden by the second one, which was an innuendo that Claire—if she hadn't had her neck snapped within the span of twenty-four hours—didn't appreciate.

She laughed bitterly. "If you think that this little _arrangement _we have going on is going to _continue _after a stunt like this…?" Again, she laughed, and she took a step forward so that she was inches away from him. The strong scent of her filled Damon's nostrils, but he didn't show any sign of liking it. "You are _seriously _mistaken," she whispered before her smile went blank, she brushed past him, and—with an icy glare again—climbed into the car.

* * *

"So where's my car?" Elena questioned with a sigh as she let her gaze drift out of the backseat window. Claire stared with annoyance at Damon's annoying trait of drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel while Damon answered.

"Ah, I pulled it off to the side of the road. I don't think anyone will bother it."

What about that man in the road?" she interrogated further. A silence passed before she spoke, "Was he a…?"

"From what I could tell…yeah."

"And you didn't know him?"

"If I've never met him, I wouldn't know him." As he said the words, Claire impulsively surged forward and placed her hand on Damon's constant fingers, flattening them against the wheel. He jolted at the touch for a moment, but then his head turned to the side where she was smiling at him sourly. Figuring that he received her hint, Claire took her hand off of his and moved back into her seat, where she leaned against the window and looked out at the fast-moving world. Damon continued, "I mean, it's not like we all hang out together at the vamp bar and grill."

Elena was silent, as if pondering the thought, and then she leaned forward so she would get a better view of the two passengers as she spoke, "So…I'm a little confused. Are you two, like—?"

"Elena, if you are about to say the word I think you're going to say, I'm going to have to stop you right there," Claire said, as calmly as she could, while turning back around to see Elena. She relaxed in her seat as Elena slid forward and peered through the two front seats.

"So…if you two are not…" she trailed off, but didn't say the word. Damon and Claire just kept their eyes peeled to the road. "I'm not going to lie, I'm a little afraid to ask, but are you…_friends_? It seems like you two do a lot of…heated arguing."

"We hate each other," said the two vampires in unison, which caused them to glance at each other from across. Elena just thought to herself for a moment while Damon spoke.

"We used to be friends," he admitted.

Claire shook her head. "We're not anymore."

"Oh…" Elena trailed off, still confused. Damon smirked to himself.

"But, if you want a real explanation, why don't you ask Claire over here about her infatuation with me," he challenged, raising an eyebrow smugly. Claire didn't need to see him to start laughing against the hand she leant against, and she didn't even turn while she responded.

"If that's how we're going to play it, why don't you just ask Damon why he stares at my ass all the time."

Damon shrugged. "It's a nice ass."

Claire scoffed. "_You're _an ass."

Damon looked over at her, capturing her attention, "Yes, and a _nice _one," he taunted, the pun fully intended. Claire, though she laughed at the joke, rolled her eyes and moved her head to the side to look out of the window again. Damon stared at the open road and pressed his foot on the accelerator.

"So," Elena started, "if you were friends once, what happened? There must've been a reason why—"

"Oh, there was a reason why," Damon cut her off as he slowly pulled up to a side road, getting off of the highway. "But it's a _long _story. And we're already here." He pulled to a stop in front of a building clearly labeled _Bree's Bar. _

"Where are we?" Elena asked, dropping all conversation of Claire and Damon's past when she saw the sign. "You brought us to a _bar_?"

Damon didn't answer as he opened his door, stepped outside, and helped Elena out of his convertible. Elena continued in the same condescending tone, "Damon, I'm not old enough. They're not going to let me in."

Damon didn't seem bothered by the slight problem. "Sure they will," he said simply, clapping his hands together as he walked away and guided Elena with him. "Come on, Claire, you're slowing us down!"

Claire, though contempt upon the fact that the place he'd brought her to had alcohol so she wouldn't be _completely _miserable, slammed the door of Damon's car and followed him exhaustedly, already hating the fact that he was controlling her with just the possession of a picture.

The three walked into the bar, Damon first, Claire and Elena behind him, and Damon seemed like he had done this on purpose—that he went to this bar for a reason. Suspicious, Claire and Elena both watched as Damon rubbed his hands together and caught sight of the bartender standing behind the counter.

"No," the woman gasped, either excited or mortified. "No, it can't be! _Damon_."

"Who's she?" Elena whispered to Claire, who just shrugged as she watched with a clueless nature that resembled that of Elena's. The bartender swung herself around the counter, sliding across a clear spot, before swinging her legs off and making her way over to the leather-covered vampire who stood just a few inches from Claire and Elena.

The woman sighed, "My honey pie," she said, almost nostalgic. The woman was tall—_real _tall. She towered over Damon, and with this, it made it easy for her to reach forward and latch her lips onto the vampire's, earning Elena to widen her eyes and a feeling of uneasiness overcome Claire, who just sighed and crossed her arms to protect from conveying her emotions. Damon and the woman pulled away for a _brief _second, and then he moaned slightly and brought his lips back to hers. Claire caught sight of Elena's shocked expression, and with a glance to her and a glance back to the interlocked people before them, she sighed.

"Looks like we've been kidnapped so Damon can act on a booty-call," Claire said, a slight edge to her tone. Damon pulled away at this and stared back at her, his lips swollen but nevertheless pulled back into a smile. She looked at the woman. "I think I'm going to need a drink for this."

* * *

"Listen up, everybody!" Bree, as Elena and Claire had collected from formalities, shouted while holding up a bottle of alcohol and turning around to the shot glasses lined up in a row in front of her. "Here's to the man that broke my heart, crushed my soul, destroyed my life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness." Each time she listed things; she poured the alcohol into the shot glass and distributed them—one to her, one to Claire, one to Elena, and one to Damon. Damon smiled, enjoying his dedication. "Drink up!" she toasted, tipping the glass back to drain her shot.

Damon did the same, and Claire followed him, but Elena—who sat next to Claire—held her glass in her hand. Claire, seeing Elena didn't drink her shot and didn't plan on it, took the alcohol out of the girl's hand without any protests from Elena, and drank it for her. First of all, it was a sin to waste alcohol. Second of all, they didn't want to be rude.

When Claire finished both shots, she returned to ground zero and laughed at Damon. "That's like a _quadfecta_!" she accused him.

"Is a quadfecta even a thing?" Elena asked, genuinely curious. Claire looked at her and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely." She looked over at Bree. "You think you can give me another one? Two, maybe?" She looked over at Damon now. "I think I'll try for my own quadfecta."

"You know, you might wanna slow down on the drinks, there, Claire. Can't hate me when you're drunk," he sung.

Claire laughed as she took the drink that Bree poured her. "I can hate you in _any _state, Damon," she said, finding the situation funny as she downed the other shot.

Bree began to fill her glass again when it was on the bar counter as she questioned the vampire, "So how'd he rope you in?"

Claire laughed. "Yeah…_no_." It was all she needed to say before she grabbed the drink and drained her forth shot. Bree turned to Elena.

"And you?"

"Oh, I'm not roped. I'm dating his—"

"Honey, if you're not roped, you're whipped," Bree interrupted, taking advantage of Elena's human innocence. She smiled. "Either way, just enjoy the ride."

Elena didn't argue. "Okay," she agreed and moved on quickly. "So, how did you two meet?"

Bree chuckled, as if remembering a thought. "College," she sung. Elena looked over at Damon, completely astounded.

"_You _went to college?" she asked in disbelief.

Damon, with his head against his hand, responded, "I've been on a college campus, _yes_." He drained his own shot that Bree poured for him as the bartender launched into the story.

"About twenty years ago, when I was a _sweet, _young freshman, I met this _beautiful _man, and I fell in love," she said with a certain degrading tone to her voice that mocked both her _and _Damon.

Claire snorted. "Are you sure we're thinking about the same guy? Because I get more of a Tom Cruise image than"—Claire jerked her head at Damon—"_that _image."

Bree snickered, "Believe it or not, it's true. And when he told me about his little secret…made me love him even more." She shrugged. "Because, see, I had a little secret of my own that, uh, I was _dying _to share with somebody."

Damon leaned over to whisper indiscreetly to both Claire and Elena, "She's a _witch_."

"Changed my world, you know."

"I _rocked _your world," smirked Damon, which caused a ripple of laughter to escape from Bree's lips.

Then, she turned serious, and faced both Elena and Claire. "He is good in the sack, isn't he?" Neither girl responded. Bree continued before they could even _think _about it. "But, mostly, he's just a…Walkaway-Joe." To this, she knocked back another shot before slamming it down and speaking. "So, what is it that you want?"

Damon said nothing, because he wouldn't dare in front of Claire or Elena. Instead, he stayed silent and shrugged, and merely observed while Claire studied him, trying to decode his ways.

It didn't take her long.

* * *

_Clarissa braced herself for the impact of the tightly drawn strings on her back as her mother almost violently pulled them against her, tightening and tightening her core so that she would look her best for the evening. The Salvatores and the Kings were having dinner at the King residence. The two families had always been close, which was why Damon, Clarissa, Stefan, and Amelia were such good friends. They weren't forced to be together—they learned to be friends on their own._

"_You must be on your best behavior with Damon Salvatore tonight," her mother echoed the words she'd been spewing all day. "You never know when he might want to increase things between you." _

"_Mother," Clarissa tried for what seemed like the trillionth time, "Damon and I are great friends. We do not think like that when it comes to each other." _

_Truth of the matter was, what she spoke was true—at least, that's how she thought he felt. Clarissa was worried that if she ever tried something with him, they would never recover. Since she'd grown the age where she could fully understand the concept of love, she'd been convinced that she had fallen for Damon Salvatore—fallen hard. Of course, at an early age, she thought that this concept of love was something to be thrown around carelessly, but as time progressed, she became more and more aware of her feelings. But the older she grew, the more cautious she'd become, and she never tried anything out of that sheer fear of becoming detached with him. Damon, a nineteen-year-old man who looked as if he'd been perfectly shaped, would certainly be interested in other women. Her feelings aside, she did not want to be a conquest. She wasn't sure she would be, just the fear alone was enough to hold her back. _

_Her mother, though…her mother was _convinced _that Damon Salvatore was just as in love with her as she was with him. Her father, too. Actually, the entire town was convinced that Damon Salvatore and Clarissa King were destined to be with each other since the beginning of time, itself. The three-year age difference did not matter to them all. All that mattered was the simple way of alliances down in the South._

"_Listen to me," her mother said, oddly cold, as she looked in the mirror and tightened the strings of Clarissa's corset again, making her stiffen harder. "You and Damon will be married one way or another. Whether it be by the decision of your fathers or by decision of your own, it will happen one day." _

_Clarissa's mother finished tying her corset, which earned the girl to turn around and face her small, lovely mother. "Are you saying that Father will _make _me marry him, even if I don't want it?" she asked, her voice small. _

_Marianne's face softened and she placed her hand on her daughter's cheek. "I would fall in love with him before then, Clarissa. There isn't much time left." _

"_Much time for what?" she asked, her voice wavering. Marianne's smile twitched in the slightest. _

"_My darling girl," she cooed, her fingers stroking the young girl's face, "Men want young wives—beautiful wives. Your time will run out soon enough. Death is inevitable, and it is mortifying. When a woman grows old, her beauty degrades. It's not long before that happens for you. Your father and I already have someone in mind for your sister."_

"_Amelia?" Clarissa repeated. "Why, who on Earth could it—" she stopped cold in the sentence when she realized, putting two and two together. "Do you mean…do you mean to tell me that Jonathan Gilbert's son—?"_

"_Let's hope for the best," her mother interrupted, giving Clarissa her warmest smile. "If Amelia can find her own husband, we won't be forced with the decision. You still have some time left, yourself, if you'd prefer that option," she promised. _

_Clarissa was silent. "How long, exactly?" she asked, her voice soft. _

_Marianne was hesitant, but eventually, she sighed. "You should have until your twentieth birthday, dear." _

* * *

After Damon was done talking with Bree about Katherine, which Claire obviously overheard and drowned her anger in the high consumption of alcohol, the vampire walked up behind Claire so that they were inches away from each other. "I'm guessing you're pissed."

"Pissed?" she repeated, taking a swig out of the bottle Bree had kindly let her drink out of. "No. Hitler was pissed Damon, but _me_? Oh…" she chuckled sourly. "Oh, you don't even know where it _begins_!"

"Claire," Damon said, trying to make her understand. "If I get Katherine out of that tomb, I will keep her as _far _away from you as possible. I know what it means to you for me to want to bring her back. I may _hate _you, but I'm not a _dick_." She raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Okay, I'm not a _complete _dick," he amended.

She wanted to say something, but instead, she didn't want to find the words. Leaving the bottle of alcohol on the counter, without a word, she turned out of her chair, grabbed the jacket she had shredded while Damon talked to Bree, and left briskly out into the cold air. Claire didn't know what to do—to run away, to stay, it was painful either way. She would lose the only picture she had of her younger sister if she ran away, but if she stayed, Damon would drive her into a hard drive that she was not equipped to handle. Never before had they spent so much time together other than when they were human friends.

But something pulled her out of her own internal dilemma—it was Elena.

"How am I connected to Katherine, Stefan?" Elena demanded.

"_I honestly don't know." _

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"_It's the truth. I…listen—_" Elena angrily hung up the phone on her boyfriend, and Claire sighed. Now she realized why Elena hadn't been so happy-go-lucky for the past few hours.

Claire flashed up to Elena, accidentally startling her when the human turned around to face her. Claire held up her hands in defense. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just…I overheard," she said, gesturing to the phone. Elena looked down at it and sighed.

"Yeah, well, it's just—" She paused and looked up at Claire, her eyes signaling her coming to the realization. "You knew, too, didn't you?"

"To be fair, I've only really known about you for a day now," Claire said, slightly shrugging. "But, yes, I know that you look like Katherine. Trust me…it's…" She blew out a long breath of air. "It's a headache."

"Do we look _that _much alike?" Elena asked, her voice a soft whisper. Claire gave a sorrowful, yet agreeing smile. "God, I just…why didn't Stefan _tell _me? Why did he have to lie?"

"I think he just didn't want you to know about her," Claire tried to make it better, defending Stefan but trying to maintain a good relationship with Elena as well. "If you knew, then…well, you would be more aware of it and you'd start questioning things. I mean, think about it. How would you feel if you were madly in love with someone before Stefan who looks _exactly _like him?" Elena silenced, taking her point. "You wouldn't want him to know, would you? Because you wouldn't want him to worry that you were only pursuing him because of his looks."

Elena, though silenced, found the will to sigh and angrily brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "He should've told me."

Claire shrugged. "Yeah, in all fairness, he should've told you," she admitted. "But there's only so much you can do about it now." Elena said nothing in return, signalizing that she didn't want to talk about it. At this signal, Clarissa began, "Go on back. I'll meet you inside, okay?"

Elena, though hesitant, nodded, and she made her way back into the bar. Claire let out a deep sigh. When did she become the mediator between all of this? Defending Katherine's look-alike? What was _possessing _her?

She turned around to meet Elena inside, realizing that—despite her arguments that never ended with Damon—Elena needed her mediation just as much as she desperately needed a drink. But, when turned, Damon, who stood right in her way, immediately stopped her.

"Everything okay?" he questioned, his expression serious and concerned.

Claire couldn't make out his intention of this, but she crossed her arms and relaxed her body. "Do me a favor and _don't _pretend to care about me or my feelings. We both know that all you want is Katherine back and you don't care how you get it."

"You think that I would be so cruel and let Katherine do whatever the hell she wants with you after she comes out? She'd kill you. That was her intention all along."

"Yeah, it was. But, hey, look at it this way!" Claire's voice was harsh and stern and made Damon flinch. "You'll finally be rid of one problem you've been dying to fix since eighteen sixty-four!"

This was the time when Damon immediately shut up, and his jaw locked in its place. "Don't you act like I never gave a damn about you," he snarled, but it was in a softer tone than a darker one. She flinched and straightened at his demeanor. "Because you _know _I did, Clarissa. You _know _it. And you were the one who screwed it up."

Claire was silent; completely astounded that he would bring that up again. She straightened now, trying to contain her anger and her sadness all in one. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said, uncrossing her arms and avoiding Damon's gaze as she brushed past him, bumping his shoulder, and he watched as she walked back up to the bar.

* * *

_Laughter filled the King mansion as Giuseppe Salvatore boomed from the seat next to Edward King, who was finishing up a story of his as regards to work. Clarissa, Damon, Stefan, and Amelia sat further down the table as Marianne sat beside her husband. The children's conversation consisted of no words but rather of slurping when it came to their means. Stefan and Amelia tried hard, as kids, to stay as sophisticated as their elder siblings, who both sat straight at the table and ate with a certain caliber that they were taught. The night was progressing fast, and soon, Amelia and Stefan had broken through their silence and were speaking to each other. It was Clarissa and Damon who stayed silent, the two of them well aware of what this dinner was supposed to cause—but they didn't _dare _say it aloud._

"_Clarissa," Edward said briskly, earning his daughter's attention. "Why don't you and Mr. Salvatore take some time to yourselves, hmm? You two may be excused," he promised, but his intentions were what Clarissa expected the entire night. _

_But, obeying her father's wishes, she and Damon were forced to be by themselves. Though the thought had settled in the back of their minds the entire dinner, they acted like everything was normal as they made their way upstairs per request of her father. It wasn't a new thing—Damon had been in her house before. In her stairwell, in her living room, in her foyer—but never in her chambers. That's why it was surprising to him when she opened the door and stepped inside, giving him a glance of the inside furnishing. He made a joke on his way towards the door, but when she didn't laugh, he didn't have enough time to process it when he was staring into her revealed bedroom._

"_Come in," she said softly. "It's all right, I…I would just rather be in here instead of downstairs." _

_Damon, though hesitant, eventually stepped across the threshold into her room, and that's when he continued his earlier thought. "Was my humor not appealing to you?" he asked, quite concerned if there was something wrong. _

_Clarissa let out as much of a breath as she could. "N-No, it's just…my mother's corset tying this afternoon prevents me from…any excessive air consumption." She wanted to laugh, but she was telling the whole truth—the corset felt like a dagger impaling her heart each time she took a breath. It was quite wrong to admit your corset troubles to a male guest, but she couldn't help herself. Damon was her best friend, and though it was uncomfortable, she wanted to be honest. _

"_Here," Damon said, stepping forward. "Allow me." _

_She wanted to protest, but he was already at her corset strings before she was able to stop him. His fingers tried to pull the corset strings loose so she could breathe again, but his hands on her made her lose even more breath than she did before. He saw her shield her eyes from the mirror, and she was quite aware that he was staring at her through the reflective device. Finally, Damon felt Clarissa let out a breath, and he backed away from her corset. "Better?" he asked. _

_She didn't respond. Instead, she turned around to face him, the proximity between them completely overwhelming. Their breaths were short—both of them breathed with caution, until Damon spoke._

"_I would like to have more time with you, Clarissa. It feels like it has been an eternity since we've last seen each other."_

"_A complete moon cycle," she corrected him. "But I understand, Damon. You have been engaged with your father…I have been engaged with my sister…" _

"_That should be no reason to drift apart," Damon retorted. "You are my best friend. I would not like that to change."_

"_Neither would I," she agreed, and things went silent for the longest time until she found the will to speak, changing the topic. "I learned something today." _

"_What would that be?" _

"_That I will die," she said, her voice strained. Damon waited for her to continue. "My mother says that I will slowly grow old…that I will become an item that no one wants. That I will no longer be beautiful one day." The concept was sorrowing, but it was reality. She wasn't quite aware that one day, she'd lose her beauty. No one prepared a young girl for that._

"_You, my Clarissa, will always be beautiful to me," Damon said kindly, reaching out so his hand brushed across her face. She felt the warmth on her cheek, and seeing her relax into it, Damon didn't move his hand._

"_You believe that?" _

"_I much more than _believe _it," Damon taunted with a smile. "I am positive of it." _

_She was about ready to tell him that they should rejoin everyone downstairs, seeing as their silence filled the air around them. But, everything changed in those few seconds of silence. Damon's eyes poured into hers no more than it had ever before, and she saw it as normal. He, however, saw it as a sign—he saw it as a beacon that this, right then and right there, was the time to finally change things. _

_A life-altering decision took a second to think about and a second to execute. Within the passing moment, Damon took the hand on her cheek and moved it so that it would tilt her head up to his and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her soft-shaped lips that fit so perfectly in his. The moment their lips touched, he knew it had been the right thing to do, and a feeling of completion overwhelmed the nineteen-year-old. Clarissa, however, was shocked to begin with, but over the next growing second, she let her lips move with his to meet his light, perfect kissing. _

_Had she ever imagined of kissing Damon Salvatore, her best friend? Yes. Had she ever acted on it? No. So, when she began to feel him change—to become more urgent with his kisses and to feel him pressure her with a sweetness that only he could ever match, she began to panic, which caused her lips to fall slack to his touch. He drove their kiss, pulling her neck closer and trying to make their first kiss both beautiful and invigorating at the same time. She was clouded and…and quite lost to the scent of him and the way he felt against her. Their bodies were crushed together, chest-to-chest, perfectly fitting as one single form. _

_This was the way it was supposed to be. _

_And this was what scared Clarissa King more than anything in the entire world. _

_It wasn't the fear of losing Damon because he didn't return her feelings. It wasn't the fear of growing old and losing her beauty. It wasn't the fear of dying. __It was the fear that she had found someone to love that forced her to stumble out of the kiss, taking Damon by surprise. He savored the sight of her—her raw lips, her red-hot face, and her shocked form. But he could see, very clearly, as she traced her cool fingers against her lips, that she was going to do something she'd regret._

"_Why?" she whispered. "Why did you have to kiss me?" _

"_You know why," Damon said softly, determined to make her realize, once and for all, that she was the woman he wanted to marry. "I have wanted to do that ever since I realized that I was in love with you." _

"_Damon," she almost whined, and tears began to well in her eyes and push over onto her face. He was confused—baffled—as to why she would cry. "I won't be this beautiful forever."_

"_You don't have to be, darling," Damon said, taking a step forward. She shook her head, her tears staining her cheeks. His fingers brushed the tears off as he spoke, "I love you, for more than just your beauty. _You _are beautiful, Clarissa." She pushed out more tears now, and his fingers tried to brush away her hair, but she cried even more at that. "Won't you tell me what's wrong?" _

_She didn't answer._

"_Tell me what's wrong." No answer. "Clarissa, please—"_

"_Please leave, Damon." She cried harder now. "Please, Damon, I-I would like you to leave." _

_There was one problem and one problem that Clarissa King would never be able to rid. Sure, she could find some will to control her anger and other emotions. Sure, she wasn't the most perfect person in the world. But this one problem that Clarissa King could not rid herself of was present even as a child ever since her Grandfather died. Her Grandfather, the meanest person of all in Mystic Falls, had warmed up to her, and she warmed up to him. Right in the middle of their routine time during the day, he had died, sitting right beside of her, and she was never able to rid herself of the guilt that haunted her. Everyone who found his or her way to love her would somehow end up wronged. Her father, her mother, and her sister…they were always given penalty after showing her affection. Over time, it became a paranoia of hers. _

_It was as if she wasn't meant to be loved. _

_And she wouldn't let Damon fall into that trap. _

_She watched as Damon, heartbroken, stood for a moment, his hands still on her face, tracing over her hot tears. But he finally was able to remove himself, and she felt her own heart break as he walked out of her door. Clarissa felt like she would break, but something else did it for her. _

_Rushing up to her bedroom door, she—through her tearful eyes—saw the hallway vase, the priceless vase, cracked in pieces, left in Damon's wake. Only, he was nowhere to be found, and she was right beside the vase when her parents had rushed upstairs to examine the commotion. _

* * *

The thing about Damon was that he was _so _good at keeping his inner emotions hidden that his outer emotions displayed no sign of how bad he felt. Elena, Claire, and Damon all sat at the bar, their positions changed now. Claire and Damon sat father away from each other and Elena sat in the middle of them both, completely oblivious to the conflict that surrounded her.

"Let's…just say that I'm descended from Katherine…does that make me part vampire?" she asked the vampires sitting on either side of her.

Claire shook her head and answered the question first. "Vampires can't procreate."

Damon hummed. "But we love to try," he countered, his lips stretching into a smile. Claire scoffed at him and Elena, who was just plain annoyed by his comment, turned back to her.

"Don't listen to him. Look, if you're descended from Katherine, which you _probably _are, that means that she had to have had a child _before _she was turned."

"Did Stefan think that he could _use _me to…replace her?" she asked, a certain bitterness in her tone.

"It's kinda creepy if you ask me," Damon said, as if he wasn't drawn to Elena for the same reason. Claire just rolled her eyes and pulled Elena's attention back to her.

"No, Elena, you really need to _stop _even…_asking _Damon for advice," she sighed desperately, shaking her head. "I've seen Stefan with a lot of women. And when I say _lot _of women, I say a _lot _of women…" Claire trailed off, seeing Elena's distaste. "Anyway, the point is, Stefan doesn't care about those things—what a person looks like. He just cares about the person." She paused and ate her food before continuing. "Unlike the person to your left."

"This coming from the girl who voted for JFK _simply _because you wanted to screw with him," Damon countered.

"I didn't want to screw _with _him," Claire retorted. "I just wanted to screw _him. _There's a difference."

"Okay, I just…I need to know," Elena said, throwing her pickle down on her plate. "What _happened _to you guys? You said you were friends so…obviously _something _had to have happened."

Both Claire and Damon looked at each other, debating whether or not to tell Elena what they told Stefan. They both knew the truth, and here they had a chance to tell it. Either one of them could make the first move, but it was eventually Damon who told the story.

"I broke a vase in her house," he said, reiterating the stretched truth he'd told ten billion times to his brother over the years. "Her parents thought she did it and they were angry. She broke my father's favorite drinking glass as retaliation." At the end, he shrugged and acted like it was nothing, but really, it was everything.

There was a secret understanding between the both of them—the thought would be locked away in their memory and never touched until the time was right. The real reason Damon and Clarissa had grown estranged _had _been because of the vase, but they would've easily been able to get over that. The seconds before, though…those were permanently branded into their memories.

"This was all…over a _vase _and a _drinking glass_?" Elena asked, turning her head to Claire for confirmation, who nodded. "That's ridiculous! It was over a hundred years ago! Just let it go."

"It's hard to forget a memory like that," Claire told her, shrugging. "Besides, it's not like we're killing each other. Yet," she added.

Elena opened her mouth to speak, but Damon took the words from her. "You don't like pickles?" he questioned, changing the topic. "What's wrong with you?"

The human teenager watched as Damon brought the pickle to his mouth that Elena had put aside and he chomped on it, relishing in the taste. Elena, surprised, asked, "How can you even eat if…technically you're supposed to be…"

"Dead?" Damon finished for her, an amused tone in his voice. "It's not such a bad word. As long as I keep a healthy diet of…_blood_ in my system, my body functions pretty normally." He smiled as he chomped down the rest of the pickle, chewing it childishly. Elena laughed to herself, but then, Bree came over to them, giving Damon and Claire their beers. Elena thought to herself for a moment as both vampires accepted the alcohol, and then, between them, she rose her head high and spoke.

"I'll have one, too."

Damon and Claire watched as Bree handed Elena a beer, too, and they all had matching glasses in their hands. With one no-word toast, they all drank the first sip of their beer, Elena giving a distasteful look as the first sip went down.

It was around the second beer when Elena started to get a little drunk, since she'd gone so long without alcohol that her tolerance worsened. Damon had been keeping her busy, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of Claire, who just sat in her seat, hating him and the world around her. While Elena was preoccupying herself in another area around the bar, Damon slid over to Claire, who was desperately wishing that she could go back home.

"Look," Damon said slowly, beginning his conversation off the best way he could. She looked over at him, her blonde hair shadowing the counter and her grey eyes waiting for him to say something, "Contrary to what we _do, _I don't want to fight you anymore today. I think I've maxed out."

Claire gasped sarcastically. "_Damon Salvatore _has a max on his witty remarks and retorts? Oh, how can this be?"

Damon glared at her. "Now, Claire, don't be rude," he scolded. She couldn't do anything but laugh, and at this, Damon smiled. "Take a time-out, okay? Just five minutes. Have some fun with me."

"Fun?" Claire asked slowly. Damon nodded. "With…_you_?"

"With me," he confirmed. She kept her eyebrows raised, weary. "We despise each other, we screw each other, _whatever_. All of that's on pause for a moment. Just…have some _fun_."

"I _invented _fun, Damon."

Damon smirked. "Then prove it," he challenged. And, after all, who was Claire King if she wouldn't accept a challenge?

It was now nighttime, and Elena was completely plastered—Damon and Claire as plastered as vampires could be for their nature. All of the men and women at the bar crowded around it, everyone ready with a shot glass in their hand, as Bree slowly counted down, "Ready…._go_!"

Elena finished first, then Claire, then Damon, who missed his mouth a little on the shot. While Elena did her infamous winning dance and politely—and loudly—conversed with the people around her, Claire laughed as Damon tried to catch the alcohol falling out of his mouth. "Oh, you're so _pathetic!" _She laughed lightly. "Do you need a bib, baby?" Claire pouted, giving him a teasing glance.

Damon gave a bitter laugh. "Sorry I can't unhinge my jaw like a _snake _to consume alcohol," he retorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, giving her a dirty glance and smile.

She snickered to herself before looking over at Bree. "Bree, can I get a two tequila shots with salt and lime, please?" Claire asked politely, though her tone was innocently vicious. Bree nodded and, beside Claire and Damon, Elena jumped up high, her hand signaling a line.

"…tolerance is like _way _up…_here!" _the teenager giggled, unable to stand still. Bree walked over to Claire and Damon and gave them the salt, the limes, and the shots all in one trip. They thanked her and Damon rolled his sleeve up, bracing to lick his thumb for the salt.

"Ah," Claire stopped him, grabbing his hand before he was able to press his tongue to it. "We're doing this my way."

"What way is that?" he asked, a certain sparkle in his eye. She smirked to herself.

"You remember JFK?" she asked him, to which he nodded. "Yeah, he always liked when we did this together."

With that said, she positioned Damon's fingers like he'd had them before and pulling his hand up to her mouth, where she licked the skin, grabbed the salt, and put it on the area she'd targeted.

"Grab the lime," she ordered, knowing that Damon was enjoying this. He reached over with his other hand, grabbed the lime, and she grabbed one of the tequila shots on the counter. Damon smiled and watched as a devilish grin spread across her face, she pulled his hand up to her mouth, licked the salt, downed the shot, and Damon held the lime up for her to bite. The alcohol, though strong and hot, went down easy, and because she was a vampire, didn't have as much of an effect. But the effect it had on Damon was more than enough satisfaction than she thought it would be.

"I _like _your way," Damon approved, the same smirk on his face from before. "That JFK was one smart guy."

"Not smart enough to hide the fact that he was cheating on me with that skank, Marilyn Monroe."

Damon laughed. "All right, 'fess up. You killed her, didn't you?"

"You'll never know," she said cryptically before gesturing to the other tequila shot. "Your turn."

His eyes caught hers for just a split second before he grabbed her hand, the warmth echoing through her, and he repeated her earlier process of the dirtier lick it, slam it, suck it. But he made it twice as painful for her as it was for him. He let his licks loiter, and the smile that he brought back onto his lips just increased the situation's intensity. When his was done, he tossed the tequila shot down on the counter and gripped Claire's hands tighter, launching her towards him.

"Let's go," he said huskily, pulling her in the direction he wanted. Claire gasped.

"But Elena…"

"Oh, who the hell cares?" Damon snapped. "She's drunk off her ass, she won't notice we're gone."

But Elena wasn't really the problem here. Claire's question was merely sarcastic, because she wasn't letting Damon get what he wanted either way. She bit her lip and shook her head, refusing his pull towards a place of solitude.

"Nope."

He blinked at her and stopped trying to get her to go with him. "What do you mean _no_?" he asked, his voice incredulous. Damon's eyes widened. "You didn't expect me to be so _controlled _after that, did you?"

She smiled to herself. "Actually, I was planning on the exact opposite."

Damon let his jaw drop in the slightest. "You…"

Clarissa turned their hands over so that she had control of them, and she brought Damon's salted hands towards her this time. Her fingers brushed over the salted spot, and Damon groaned at the soft touch. "I had to get even at you for stealing my picture _somehow_. I told you, our little arrangement is over."

"You don't really expect me to _believe_ that, do you?" Damon asked, sure that she wouldn't be able to hold this up. "You want me just as much as I want you. Maybe even more," he said darkly.

She shrugged. "True," Claire agreed. But her lips turned into a smile. "But not tonight, I don't." Damon looked like he was about ready to take what he wanted, but before he could, Claire caught sight of Elena over by the pool table playing against herself. With nothing said to the angry vampire in front of her, Claire just smirked at him, brushed his shoulder, and walked over to Elena, who spun around with her hands in the air because she had pocketed the ball she hit.

"Yeah!" Elena shouted happily and posed. "I'm _awesome_!" she sung. All of a sudden, though, there was a ringing tone, and Elena's attention was quickly diverted from Claire towards her cell phone giving sharp rings. She rushed over to it and answered. "Hello?"

"_Elena," _said a female's voice on the other side of the line.

"Jenna…!" The drunken Elena tried to cover up her intoxication by pitching her voice higher. "Uh…hold on. It's loud in here."

Claire watched as Elena grabbed her jacket and began to go outside and, seeing as the human could barely take two steps without stumbling, she tried to help Elena. Her aunt's voice pushed through the phone as Elena stumbled and stumbled, being saved by Claire, who guided her out of the building as quickly as she could while Elena jabbed at the air, trying to put on her jacket. Unfortunately, when Claire held the door open for Elena, that's when she needed it the most, and the teenager tripped and fell, dropping her phone in the process with a groan. Elena desperately clawed on the ground for her phone, and in doing so, she didn't even notice when Claire's neck was snapped for the second time.

"Hello?" Elena tried through the phone in her drunken stupor, oblivious to the unconscious vampire just a few feet away from her. By the time her reaction time had settled in and she realized that Claire was, in fact, temporarily dead, she didn't have enough time before someone put his hand over her mouth and she screamed, though it didn't do much help.

Meanwhile, back inside, Damon slid into a chair on the bar, sighing. Bree, who was behind the counter, noticed his presence, of course. "Hey," she chimed. Looking around, she searched for Claire and Elena. "Where are your girls?"

Damon looked up and around the room, his eyes sweeping across the facility to tell Bree just, exactly, where Claire and Elena were. But when he didn't find them, he hummed to himself. "They were _right _back there."

Bree said nothing, but Damon merely caught sight of an open back door, and he immediately took the feeling in his gut and acted on it. He looked around once he was outside, and when his eyes drifted to the floor, he soon realized that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Damn it," Damon groaned, seeing Claire's temporarily unconscious body on the floor. Her arm was laying across the hardwood floor, but her clothing had blended into the night. He had no doubt that he would hear about this when she was awake. He bent down and picked Claire up so that she wouldn't be lying so uncomfortably on the floor, and he set her down against the side of the building, her head rolled to the side. He was just about to think where Elena was, but the sight of a glowing phone on the outside deck reminded him. It, sure enough, was Elena's phone, but there was no Elena to be found.

Seeing as he knew Claire would be okay when he woke up, Damon reached down, grabbed the phone, and set off in another direction to find his brother's girlfriend.

* * *

Claire's fingers twitched as she slowly came back to life. The feeling in her hand was connected to her brain, and she rolled her head so that she woke up against the side of Bree's Bar. The world before her was slightly blurry, but in something of a second, it was returned back to normal. She wanted to blame this temporary killing on Damon, but she was ninety-nine percent sure that it wasn't him that had snapped her neck. It was someone else.

She looked around for Elena, but realizing that the teenager was gone, she began to panic.

That's when she heard a voice. Elena's, in particular.

"_Don't do this." _Silence—deafening silence. _"I'm begging you! Please!" _

Claire forced herself up from the ground and, with what little strength she had, she found the will to muster it all up and flash to where she heard the voices. As she arrived, she found Damon being thrown at the side of a power plant building by a vampire with tears welling up in his eyes. He began to saunter towards Damon, even when Claire showed up, and Elena's breath caught when she saw Claire arrive. The big bad vampire was stopped when Claire knocked him to the ground with the little strength she had left.

"That's _twice _in one day," she snarled, her fangs appearing in her mouth and her eyes going bloodshot and slithering with monstrous veins underneath. "I don't take kindly to vampires snapping my neck!"

It was when she realized who it was when she loosened her grip on the vampire's leather collar. "Lee?" she questioned, astounded.

"Claire," he said, but he didn't seem so surprised. In fact, he was on the verge of crying.

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" she growled. Now she was angry. Not only did she have her neck snapped twice but, by both times, it was from people she knew—one of which she actually liked. "What the hell were you doing snapping my neck?"

It didn't take a nuclear physicist to figure that one out—by the sight of everything going on. Gasoline was radiating through the air, there was a burnt out match in Lee's hand, and Damon was soaked in gasoline. "Were you trying to kill Damon?"

"He killed her," Lee began in a sobbing, painful voice. "He killed her."

"What the _hell _are you talking about? Killed who?"

"Lexi!" Lee shouted in her face, one sole tear drifting down the side of his face. "He killed Lexi! He killed Lexi!"

This was the moment of realization—the true turning point. Claire immediately went limp, losing all contact with her fingers and her brain. She began to feel emotions that she'd thought she had a handle on, at least most of the time. The anger, the sadness…they turned to rage and despair in one single instant. The despair was what gave out and what caused her to growl-whisper, "Lexi's dead?"

Lee nodded, and a whole eternity went by her. Lexi was…_dead. _Stefan and Damon lied to her. _Stefan _lied to her. It wasn't so much about Damon lying, it was Stefan. Stefan agreed that Lexi just went away. She wondered if he knew, and that's when it truly began to sink in—what if Stefan _didn't _know? What if Damon killed Lexi and told his brother that she left town? What if Damon, being the heartless bastard that he was, had killed one of her best friends?

Here's what: she would kill him. She would kill him with her own two hands.

Clarissa angrily yanked Lee up from the ground with her hands around the collar of his jacket. She could see the hope shine in his eyes that she might actually let him kill Damon, but instead, she squared her jaw. "If anyone is going to kill Damon Salvatore, it's going to be _me, _you got it? Get out of here," she snapped.

"Claire—"

"I said _now_," Claire growled at him, and Lee knew when to quit. His eyes flickered up to Elena, who was the innocent bystander in all of this, and with the same tearful eyes that he had shown up with, he flashed away, leaving Claire, Damon, and Elena alone.

"Claire…" She heard the whisper come from Damon's mouth, and in a mere second, she flashed up to him, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and forced him to stand straight.

"Tell me you didn't kill her!" Claire snarled in his face, jerking his head back. Damon was already weak from the beating that Lee had given him. "Tell me that you didn't _lie_!"

"I didn't kill her," Damon choked out, his voice desperately trying to match that of an honest person's. "I didn't kill her, Claire, believe me."

Behind Claire, Elena just raised her eyebrows. She had seen Damon kill Lexi that night at the Grill—why was he lying to Claire? Would it be so bad if she knew the truth?

Claire's eyes filled up with tears as she loosened her grip slightly on Damon's collar. "But…but you lied," she prompted.

Damon swallowed. "Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, I lied." His gasoline-soaked hands moved up and touched her wrists. Not to make her pull away from him, but to show her that he was trying to make amends. Though the lies spilled out of his mouth like it was the actual truth. "She's dead."

She broke down. It was the first time in a long time that Damon Salvatore had ever seen Clarissa King cry.

It was a while later when Clarissa was sitting on the hood of Damon's car, drinking out of a bottle of alcohol that Damon had supplied her with to keep her from crying again. She hadn't cried all that long—a few minutes, at most. Elena was heartbroken at the sight, and she was very aware that Damon was lying to Claire about the situation. She wanted to know why.

She walked into Bree's Bar, where Damon had disappeared into after he said that they would leave. She walked in on the sight of Damon wiping his hands on a towel behind the counter. Elena could clearly make out the sight of blood on the towel, but she didn't want to ask. There was no doubt in her mind that Damon, such a vile monster, wanted revenge for being almost killed. If it weren't for Claire, he would most likely be dead, and Elena would've had to have been forced to watch that gruesome sight.

"You ready to go?" Damon asked, his voice somber. He was completely disheveled, and she realized that—out of the three of them, she had probably had enjoyed the trip the most, and she didn't even enjoy it that much.

"You lied to her," Elena whispered, her voice soft and quiet so that Claire wouldn't hear. Damon was right by her, so he would pick up on her words. "Why?"

"Elena," Damon said slowly, walking forward, "If Claire finds out what I did, she'll kill me. She already hates me enough."

"What if you're wrong?" Elena countered. She'd seen it over the last two hours—there was something _there. _Elena wasn't ready to believe that this woman hated Damon and he hated her. "What if she can forgive you?"

"Not everyone's as forgiving as you, Elena," Damon said, his voice oddly cold. "Maybe…one day, I can drop the bomb on her. Fifty years from now or so. But you won't be around to see it," he promised. Elena flinched slightly, and her mind drifted back to Stefan as if it was on automatic. It didn't take long before Damon ordered her out of the bar, grabbing his leather jacket on the way out.

* * *

Elena was sleeping in the backseat of the car, her snores the most prominent sound that was in Damon and Claire's ears, despite the fact that they had the radio on. They had been up all night driving back from Georgia, and now, the dawn broke out through the horizon and shone in their eyes. Claire hadn't shed a single tear since she cried, and she didn't show any sign of being down, even though Damon knew she was. He didn't say anything, though—he let her take the lead.

"So…tell me," she said, turning her head to him. "Why was it so important for me to go on this trip?"

Damon looked over at her with a playful smile. "What, besides the obvious?"

Claire shook her head, but a smile appeared on her lips. "Come on. You had your little witch bitch to keep you entertained and you could've dropped me back at the house to be with Stefan. So why did you haul my ass with you? Some sort of sick torture, maybe?"

Damon scoffed. "You're not the _worst_ company in the world, Claire," he said, shrugging.

Claire stared at him incredulously. "Come on, seriously. Where's Damon Salvatore and how do I get him back?" Damon smirked to himself and looked out the window before responding.

"I…felt bad, okay? You pissed me off, I snapped your neck, and I was…"

"Sorry?" Claire filled in.

Damon frowned. "Yes…" he trailed off, a certain acrid taste in his mouth. "Yes, I was _sorry_. And I wanted a chance to make it up to you."

This time, Claire was the one who scowled. "By taking my most prized possession?"

"Hey, I needed leverage." He shrugged again. "Plus, you know, you _are _fun when you want to be. I mean, dirty tequila shots in a public place? When will I ever get a chance to do that again?"

"Find some skank and compel her like you normally do," Claire repeated his shrug, but a laugh escaped her lips.

"Yeah, but you're _so _much better at it than they would be."

"Mmhmm." She smiled. Damon studied her as she glanced out the window, and he hummed to himself.

"And…" he trailed off, capturing her attention. She watched as he strained himself for another reason. "You aren't the _worst _company in the world, Claire."

She appreciated the comment, and Damon's smile, but they knew that the second they went back to Mystic Falls, they would find something to hate each other over yet _again_. Damon was quite worried about what she would do to Lexi's killer—whoever he chose to take the blame. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you just gave me a compliment." Damon laughed in agreement and turned his head out into the open road. She was silent for a while, "I _saved _your life, you know."

Damon turned his head to her. "I know."

"You owe me."

"What kind of payment plan would you prefer?" Damon asked, his eyebrows raising. But it was then that Elena woke up in the back seat, stirring slowly at first, but then waking in the next second, and they halted all conversation.

They drove back to the boarding house in no time, reaching it by the time the late morning was beginning. Elena went straight upstairs with a sigh, bracing herself with a conversation with Stefan. Claire and Damon stood outside, Claire leaning against the hood of her car, tapping her phone against her hand. Damon slammed his door shut and walked over to her. "You better not be putting scratches on my hood," he warned.

"Relax, Grandpa," Claire joked and jumped off of the hood of his car. She brushed off her hands and gestured to the sparkling blue Camaro. "See? It's spotless."

She turned from him, but this was the moment that Damon could see her contemplating things. He knew exactly what she was contemplating, and this was what made him stay silent until she spoke again.

"Tell me who did it," Claire said, turning around sharply to face him, her eyes as serious as they came. She nodded to him once, and Damon, who wore a pained expression, sighed.

"Claire—"

"It's okay, just…just tell me." Damon stayed silent. "Come on, Damon, you've been nice to me for the last couple hours. What will another five minutes do?"

Damon thought about it for a moment, but it wasn't the fact that he wanted to be difficult that stopped him from telling her. He didn't know what she would do if he said the word that popped into his mind to blame it on—it was the most realistic and practical person he could think of, of course. But what would she do? She couldn't get revenge against another for something he did.

"Just…" Damon trailed off. "Promise me you won't do anything rash."

Claire frowned. "Whoever killed Lexi…_killed _Lexi, Damon. If you died, wouldn't you want vengeance?"

"It wasn't on purpose," Damon tried, spinning his lie in the direction he wanted it to go. He would fill Stefan in on it later. "You know, the Council in this town is ruthless. They see a vampire, they attack it. That's just how it—"

"Damon," Claire spoke softly. "_Tell me_."

Damon gave an annoyed breath when he realized that she wouldn't give it up. "It was Sheriff Forbes," he said, his voice flat. "She thought Lexi was a vampire, she staked her, and Lexi died. They thought they were rid of the town's problem. If I could've done anything to stop it, I would've." _Lies, _something chirped in Damon's head, but he swatted it away like a bug.

Claire thought it over for a moment, but Damon could see the change in her eyes. She wouldn't do anything. Not to a human—not to someone on the Council. Not if it was a misunderstanding. If it was intentional, of course—which is was, in all honesty—she would've ripped out the killer's throat with no remorse. Despite Damon's hatred against her, he didn't want to fight her on this. He was hoping she'd never find out.

In desperate attempt to change the subject, Damon cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. "So…I said that I would give this to you when we got back," he said, pulling out the small photograph of Clarissa and Amelia. Clarissa was eighteen in the picture, Amelia thirteen. He remembered the pain that Clarissa had gone through when her sister died. Though Damon was furious at the girl who'd broken his heart, he still expressed his condolences. It was the only moment he had shared with Clarissa, obviously unknown to his brother, that hadn't been full of rage at the time. It was in the morning when all of the hopes and dreams he'd had of making things work with Clarissa that it all fell apart.

Clarissa took the photo from him gently, looking down at the picture. "Thank you," she said, but there was a certain hatred in her voice. If Damon hadn't taken the picture in the first place, he wouldn't have had to have given it back.

All of a sudden, all niceties were drained away from Damon, and he stalked forward, forcing her back. "What are you doing?" she asked him, but he turned them so that her back hit the side of the car and he kept her there with his own body. His fingers traced the side of her face and jerked it to the side, where he leaned forward so his lips were by her ear.

"You won't last a _day _without me, you know," he whispered in her ear, low enough so that Stefan wouldn't have the slightest clue. Besides, he was too busy with Elena to notice. "So you want to keep this up, you'll be the one coming to _me _next time."

Though Clarissa's breathing pattern was slightly jagged, she managed to retort, "You think I'm that weak? God, you don't know me at all." She gripped his hand that was keeping her head to the side, removed it from her face, and kept it balled into a fist when she looked back at him. But he was enjoying her retaliation, not moving as she closed more distance between them so it was even more limited now. "I don't _need_ you, Damon."

Damon hummed. "We'll see," he smiled, the corners of his lips turning up vindictively. He stepped back, giving her an extra moment to smell his intoxicating scent, and then he yanked his hand from hers and she watched as he walked around the car. "I'm going to the Grill. Tell Stefan I said good morning."

With that, the old Damon was back, and he climbed into his car, backed out of the driveway, and drove off to drown his sorrows in more liquor—like the whole day yesterday wasn't enough.

* * *

**So, I don't know if you all watched the Season 5 finale the other night...let's just pretend it never happened, okay? Okay. It's the only way I'm going to get through this summer. Raise your hand if you're still crying over it. *Raises my own hand***

**Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I'll update ASAP. Review if you can! **

_**Love, **_

_**BellaSalvatore1918**_

_**X**_


	4. Unpleasantville

**Hey, everyone! I'm finally done with Driver's Ed on Tuesday, and there are only two more weeks of school :) Plus, those last four days are half days because of exams so finally! Summer's approaching quickly. I can't wait. **

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Review if you can. **

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)**

* * *

**Unpleasantville**

So, it had been settled—Claire and Stefan were both staying in Mystic Falls. Elena and Stefan were back together and he wanted to stay with her as long as he could. But, even though this mysterious man who had intentionally stood in front of Elena's car was a major issue as of the moment, Damon was an even bigger threat. He spent his entire night searching the shelves of the Salvatore library, and some of the morning, too. It was in the morning while Claire was getting her stuff from the compelled Rio townsmen she had asked to bring her stuff to the States that Stefan talked to Damon about his secret agenda, to which Damon brushed off like it was nothing, like he always did. Claire didn't have a lot of things, but what she did own, she put them into one of the guest rooms closer to Stefan's side of the house than Damon's just so her best friend wouldn't get suspicious. Besides, Damon and Claire had made their rules clear: until she came to him, he wouldn't pressure. He was quite convinced she'd crack, but she found other ways to preoccupy her time; like planning her outfit for this 1950's dance Stefan and Elena invited her to be the chaperone to.

"Is it possible for a vampire to get fat?" Claire asked, playing around with the clingy fabric of her authentic skin-tight leather pants and constricting red top. It was _literally _from the fifties—the perks of being a vampire. She kept the few outfits she liked over the decades just in case anything came back into style. Tonight was the night she finally got to use that one pesky hoarder trait of hers. Claire turned around to Stefan, who was buttoning up his grey shirt. "I don't remember having to stop breathing in order to fit into this thing."

Stefan laughed. "I still think you should've gone with the poodle skirt." Claire rolled her eyes. "Or the Pink Ladies jacket you stole from the movie set in the seventies."

"Oh, my _God_," Claire groaned, pulling her long, pale hair up and away from her face. "I remember the _Grease _phase. That jacket's probably worth a fortune by now. Too bad vampires don't need money," she chirped and reached down with the hand that wasn't holding her hair up in a perfect bunch so that she could tie it with the red silken hair tie they used back then. The outfit she'd chosen was the one that all of the impure, racy girls wore back in the day—and since she was no saint, she didn't bother buying any of the nice-girl clothes: the calf-length skirts, white shirts, and quarter sleeve open sweaters. She was much more like Rizzo than Sandy back then.

She finished tying her hair up into a ponytail using the silk ribbon when Stefan responded, "Didn't you take the T-Birds jacket that _I _stole?"

Claire smiled. "Guilty," she sang, which earned a laugh from Stefan. "Oh, come on. It's not like you were going to wear it, anyway, Mr. I'm-too-cool-for-leather-jackets-anymore," she taunted, sitting down on Stefan's bed to relax before she had to slip on her shoes and get going with Stefan to the dance.

"You know, you could've just _asked_," Stefan mused, a smile twitching on his lips. Claire shrugged as she lay across the edge of his bed, her hand propping her head up and her hair obeying gravity by swaying behind it.

"Yeah, but what fun would that be?" Claire shrugged. "Wait a second! Unless you're _angry _at me for taking it!" Stefan said nothing. "Wait, _are _you?"

Stefan laughed and looked up at her, incredulous. "When have I _ever _been angry at you, Claire?"

Claire twitched her lips. "Err…actually, you were pretty mad at me back then before I left." Stefan frowned at the mention of the memory, and she just rolled off the bed and sighed. "Oh, well. Let bygones be bygones." She bounced up to him and poked his chest, causing Stefan to loosen up. "Come on. Aren't we going to party like it's…nineteen fifty?" she finished, a puzzled look crossing her face at her own statement. "Does that work?"

Stefan was confused, too, and eventually he just shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't."

In no time at all, they were on their way to Elena's, taking their time making their way over to the teenager's house. Stefan showed Claire some of the town that they passed on their on-foot trip to the Gilbert house, sometimes having flash races in between. It was nothing but fun and games until Claire spotted something peculiar outside of a suburban house that Stefan had pointed out as Elena's.

"Stefan…" Claire trailed off, pointing in the direction of the house. "There's something there," she murmured so that the vampire lurking wouldn't hear. It was when Stefan saw the vampire go into the house that he wasted no more time _thinking _about what would happen, and he was out of sight.

Unlike Claire, Stefan was able to get inside the second they suspected anything from only a block down from Elena's house. Claire had managed to break down the door, but she wasn't able to cross the threshold. In the commotion of it all, Stefan lost the vampire, who went out by way of Elena's back door, leaving nothing but a frightened girl, a worrisome vampire, and a helpless vampire in its wake.

Stefan picked Elena up from the floor and pulled her into his arms, asking her if she was okay over and over again, to which Elena responded the same answer. She was fine, but the three of them knew that she very well couldn't have been if Stefan and Claire hadn't shown up in time.

Claire cleared her throat, gaining Elena and Stefan's attention. "Not to…err…be insensitive or anything, but…" She pressed her hand against the threshold, where an invisible blockade forced her hand back. Stefan and Elena both sighed, but out of a still worried relief, and Elena invited the blonde vampire waiting at her door into the house, and Stefan immediately pulled out his phone and called Damon.

"How'd he get in?" Damon demanded once he was inside Elena's house. Claire was very aware that Damon had already been invited in beforehand, and at this, she was amazed. Big bad vampire and all, it seemed unlikely that Elena would just invite him into her home. Must've been unintentional or something like that.

Elena sat on the couch, next to Stefan, who had his hand placed on her thigh comfortingly. Claire sat on the couch's arm next to Stefan, who was freaking out slowly.

"He was invited in," Elena choked out, still shocked over her near-death experience.

"He posed as a pizza delivery guy last night," Stefan added.

"Clever," said Claire, just as Damon agreed with her in his own way by saying, "Well, he gets points for that."

A silence passed before Damon spoke again, "Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, he was too busy trying to _kill _me," Elena retorted, moving her head at him and giving Damon the equivalent of a death glare.

"And you have _no _idea who this is?" Stefan asked Damon, an accusing tone in his voice. All earlier light-hearted, laid-back Stefan had been drained and he was now serious as ever. Claire understood though—it was risky being with a human. One wrong move and they're dead and you're alone forever. It sucks to be a vampire sometimes.

Damon shook his head. "No," he said, and Stefan looked at him with a slightly questioning nod. "Don't look at me like that. I _told _you we had company."

Elena glanced up at Damon quickly. "You think there's more than one?" she asked, alarmed.

Damon stiffened and eventually said, "We don't know."

"This can't just be some uncanny coincidence," Claire refused, shaking her head as she pulled her thumb into her mouth and thought it over. "Whoever this guy is, he obviously has a plan. And there _has_ to be a reason."

Stefan knotted his eyebrows at her. "You think he's after Elena because she looks like Katherine?" he asked.

Claire raised her own eyebrow at him in a disbelieving kind of tone. "Vampires may hunt their prey, Stefan, but they don't go through these types of lengths unless you're one _seriously _sadistic bastard. I mean, they're not _all _Damon Salvatore." Damon rolled his eyes, but Claire just bushed past her own joke and rubbed her hands on her thighs in thought. "Anyways, regardless of the reason, he'll have a plan. Now that he's been made, he'll have to finish it."

"Look at you," Damon taunted, sitting down on the other side of the couch by Elena. "Ever the psychologist."

Things went silent after Claire ignored his comment and Stefan spoke again, his voice strained and worried. He spoke his friend's name softly. "Claire." Claire looked down at him to find Stefan staring up at her. "He was _invited _in."

Claire realized the importance of the statement, and so did Damon, who was nodding to himself. Before Claire could respond to Stefan, Damon was the one that did it for her, "Then we go get him tonight." He shrugged and turned to Elena. "You up for it?"

"What do I have to do?" asked the timid human.

"Let your boyfriend take you to the dance," Damon spoke evenly, never missing a beat. "Claire and I can keep watch and see who shows up."

"It's a bad idea," Stefan warned, but Claire vouched for Damon, who was finally thinking of someone other than himself. It didn't surprise her—Katherine look-alike and all that.

"You said it yourself, Stefan, he was _invited _in," she explained. Stefan was still weary of the plan, but she continued. "Until we get him, no one in this house is safe." Elena looked up at her, almost searching for a confirmation to Damon's words. "If we don't get him tonight, there's no telling what he'll do."

Elena sighed deeply, but then she nodded and straightened, trying to put on a brave face for the vampires surrounding her. "I'll do it," she said immediately, and Stefan, though still weary, accepted her decision. Elena could see right through him, so she reached forward and grabbed his hand. "With all of you with me, I'll be safe," she assured her boyfriend.

All the vampires in the room made eye contact with each other, and they knew they were all in for one hell of a night.

* * *

Claire, Damon, Stefan, and Elena all walked into the energetic high school gymnasium filled with teenagers either drunk or just high on life…or possibly something much stronger. Fifties music blasted from the speakers and a slideshow played up against the projector in the gym, being blinded by students' heads and the eons of streamers and balloons that coated the gymnasium.

Damon sighed heavily, tilting his head to Claire in just the slightest so she knew he was talking to her. "Quick, favorite decade?" he questioned, a smirk on his face. Though he did not look at her, her grey eyes drifted up to him and quickly looked around the crowd of teenagers, scoffing.

"Tell me this won't turn into Twenty Questions."

"Oh, come on! It's just a question. Favorite decade?" Damon spun around on his heel to stop her from moving, swiveling so that he was just in front of her. A few feet away, Elena and Stefan were already at a table, talking with each other.

She pursed her lips at him. "You're going to think this is because of you, but it's not." Damon raised an eyebrow. "The twenties," she concluded, and Damon nodded. "There's nothing that can be more fun than partying in prohibited jazz clubs with an unlimited supply of illegal alcohol."

"And you're _positive _that's the only reason?" he attempted, but she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Yes, I'm _positive." _She paused. "And you?"

Damon looked around the gymnasium, his eyes wandering from costumed girl to costumed girl. "What about me?"

"Favorite decade?" she questioned, crossing her arms at him. He glanced down at her, removing his eyes from the crowd. "I'm making this a 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' type of thing, just so you know." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Stefan squeeze Elena's hand and walk over to the punch bowl, probably to get a drink for his girlfriend.

"Mm," Damon agreed, but his eyes involuntarily drifted down the length of her, surveying her costume. It was hard _not _to stare at the revealing outfit—something that a regular student could potentially get kicked out with if they had worn it the way she did. He kept himself controlled, but on the inside, he was raging. He always was. If he didn't find her attractive, they would've never slept together, so there it was: he found Clarissa King breathtakingly attractive.

Annoying, but attractive.

"The fifties," he responded coyly, glancing up at her. She looked at him in return, puzzled.

"Why?"

"Well, if you were dressed that way the whole decade…" he trailed off, letting her imagine the rest. Though the statement was _wildly _inappropriate to be making in the same room as Stefan, but their voices were low enough that only they could hear.

"All right, I think that's our cue to stop now." She smiled at him teasingly. "I thought I told you I was done with this mess."

Damon puckered his lips. "And…_how _many times have you said that over the years?" She frowned at him. "Oh…wait. You've said it at _least _four times."

Clarissa sighed, frustrated with him. "Now you're just pissing me off." She brushed past him and heard Damon's chuckle.

"After all, that's what I do best."

Claire, tired of being with the elder Salvatore brother that pissed her off for sport, went over to Stefan at the drink table. He was scooping punch into a cup very domestically when Claire came up behind him and sighed heavily. "You know, everyone seems to forget all of the shit that happens in this decade. To them, it's all varsity jackets and poodle skirts."

Stefan turned to her and laughed. "People like to forget the bad history, Claire. Replace it with a better one."

She groaned. "Yeah, but they're so _painfully _inaccurate when they do that! If only everyone got to live forever; they would all see our way of life."

"Ah," Stefan protested, placing the ladle down in the punch bowl and successfully holding up two punch cups. "See, now _that _would be a problem. If everyone became like us, we would have no food source left. And animal supply would run out quickly."

Claire frowned. "Rain on my parade, why don't you, Stefan," she mocked, and he smiled before she grabbed the cup of punch in his hand. Stefan sighed.

"That was for Elena…" he trailed off and watched as she downed the liquid like it was a shot. When she crushed the cup in her hand, she shrugged.

"So? I'll pour her another one. It's called _effort, _Stefan. Effort." Stefan rolled his eyes before glancing around the room, worried. At this, Claire attempted to ease his discomfort as she grabbed another cup and scooped the red liquid into it. "Relax, Stefan. Damon and I can handle this. Tonight's all about your experience as a high school teenager."

Stefan turned back at her with a sigh. "Yeah, I know, I just…" He paused, almost stopping mid-sentence like he'd caught something wrong. Claire continued to scoop the punch into the cup to fill another one she would have for herself. "Wait a second, did I actually hear the words 'Damon and I' come out of your mouth?"

Claire laughed bitterly. "Well, Stefan, if Damon and I are going to live in the same town, we have to be at least _tolerable _with each other. Besides, it's for the greater good. Protecting a human, teenage Katherine Pierce look-alike. _Worth it,_" she sang, but it was obviously sarcastic.

Stefan eyed her carefully. "You and Damon? Living…_in peace_?"

At this, Claire scoffed. "Who said anything about peace? I just said we have to learn to be tolerable. That does _not _mean peace. I'm still contemplating how to stake him in his sleep."

Stefan shook his head in disbelief. "The conflict between you two will never end, will it?"

Claire shrugged. "Nope." With a smile, she brought her own cup to her lips, drank out of it more conservatively this time, and grabbed Elena's in her hand. She extended it out to Stefan. "One cup of punch for your girl all ready to go."

"Actually," Stefan countered, not taking the cup. "Do you mind giving it to her? I need to go talk to Damon."

Claire shrugged once more, and with an expression of his gratitude, Stefan was off in the other direction. Claire scanned the crowd for Elena's position, and she eventually found her with two other girls, who were clinking cups at each other. Making her way through the sea of frisky teenagers, she walked up to Elena and the duo beside her. "They're not shots, but they'll have to do." She smiled widely, handing Elena the red liquid.

"Thanks," Elena said gracefully, accepting the cup. She turned back to Bonnie and Caroline and quickly made the introductions. "Caroline, Bonnie, this is Claire King, Stefan's friend. She's, uh, staying at the Salvatore house." Elena turned to Claire and gestured. "Claire, this is Caroline and Bonnie, my friends."

The two teenagers gave awkward smiles to Claire, as if assessing her for some odd reason. Claire felt uncomfortable under the stare of the two snap-judging teenagers, and she forced a smile. She'd met Caroline before and had seen the judging eyes, but Caroline didn't remember her at all, obviously due to Damon's compulsion.

"Are you a chaperone or a new student?" Bonnie asked, her eyebrows knotting. Claire recognized Bonnie as the possessed Bennett witch who had performed the spell that destroyed Damon's beloved crystal, but she had never personally _met _Bonnie before.

"Oh, _God _no, not a student." Claire laughed. "High school days are _over. _I'm chaperoning."

"Hey," Elena interrupted, looking around. "Where did Stefan go, again?"

"Oh, he went to talk to Damon," Claire said, a certain attitude in her voice. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the two Salvatore brothers. When she spotted them, she pointed Elena in the direction. "There you go."

"Thanks," Elena smiled and went off, leaving Caroline, Bonnie, and Claire all by themselves. Bonnie and Caroline were looking off in Damon's direction with disgust as Stefan separated from his brother.

Bonnie groaned, converting her disgusted look into a tone. "Look at him. He's just so…so…"

"Smug? Cocky? Just _smells _like a jack-ass?" Claire interrupted, gaining Caroline and Bonnie's attention. They looked at her with widened eyes, as if they'd struck gold. "Yeah, that's Damon Salvatore for you. I mean, come on. Who comes to a decade dance without dressing up? Literally _refused _to go home and change." She shook her head, almost disappointed.

"Oh, my _God,_" Caroline breathed, glancing at Bonnie. "I think I just found an older, less prettier version of _me_."

Claire, at first, was pleased with the comment, but then she realized what Caroline had said. "Wait a second…"

"Hi, Bonnie," a voice cooed, and all three girls turned to see Damon approaching them. Claire simply ignored his presence while both Caroline and Bonnie turned to him, feeding him what he needed: attention. "Wanna dance?"

Bonnie was cold and monotone as she scoffed, "I'm _outta _here."

Damon stepped in front of her, pulling her arm back. "Please give me another chance," he begged. Damon Salvatore, _begging? _Now this was a sight Claire had always wanted to see, so she turned to him with a confused look and wide grin.

Bonnie, having the ultimate girl-power, scoffed and turned away from him, never caving under his smoldering gaze. She brushed past him and walked off, and at this, Caroline walked forward and spoke to him sharply, "Back off, Damon."

Damon flinched as Caroline walked after Bonnie, leaving him and Claire by the table. Claire didn't try to even conceal her soft, breathless chuckles. "Three cheers for feminists," she taunted, which just earned a sour smile on Damon's face.

Before he could retort, Elena's voice was behind him, "Where did they go?"

Damon turned around to face them and shrugged. "I don't know."

Elena and Stefan were clearly curious and amused at the same time. Stefan obviously overheard the conversation. "What'd you say to 'em?"

Claire snorted. "What _didn't _he say to them?"

Damon looked back at her with a dark glare, but then back at Stefan with a sweet smile. "I was _perfectly _polite," he defended himself, and then turned his head to the dolled-up Elena, who was enjoying this. "Elena," he began. She straightened at his address, "Would_ you_ like to dance?"

Elena's voice was sweet and innocent, "I would _love _to." Damon smirked to himself, chuckling in satisfaction. But his happiness was short-lived when Elena turned to Stefan and said, "May I have this dance?"

Stefan didn't say anything but merely propped out his elbow, in which Elena took with a fiery, pleased gaze towards Damon. The raven-haired vampire's smile just turned, and he could hear Claire choking on her drink.

"Wow. That has to be…like, a _record _or something." She couldn't resist laughing. "I mean, _three _girls? Wow. By the way, when did you become a pedophile? I went to law school once and I'm _pretty _sure that an adult dating a minor is illegal."

Damon turned around at her. "Nothing's illegal in our world, sugar." Claire shrugged simply and pulled her drink back to her lips again. "But if you want to go with logistics, _you _are legal. So why don't you dance with me?" He made himself clear this time, but that didn't change the answer.

"Mm…" Claire hummed to herself. "I'd rather _not, _though."

"It's just _one _dance!"

"Why are you so desperate?" Claire asked, now concerned with his intentions. "You can't _honestly _be so desperate to want to dance with _me_."

Damon shrugged. "I asked you, didn't I?" She frowned at him.

"Yeah. Last. Which proves that you're desperate. I don't accept scraps, Damon, you should know this by now." She shook her head, but didn't let him get to her on the subject. Dancing with Damon Salvatore wasn't her first choice in hobbies.

Damon scowled at this. "Come on. I'm bored, and I'm not going to go home tonight without dancing. There's nothing to _do _here," he complained.

Claire straightened. "Uh…have you _forgotten _that we're supposed to be going all _Buffy _on this guy who's trying to kill Elena?"

Damon gestured around the room. "Well, look around! I don't see him, do you?"

"No, that's why we have to be on the lookout."

Damon groaned. "_God, _you're frustrating. And very empowered, too." Claire drained the rest of her punch as Damon's expression changed from annoyed to confused and concerned. "What are you up to?"

She placed her empty cup on the table and sighed, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he countered, his words serving as gateway to the words he really wanted to say. Claire straightened. "You're hiding something. That's why you're so insistent upon staying away from me," he whispered.

Claire scoffed and began to walk away. "Not everyone has bad intentions, Damon, I'm simply insistent upon staying away from you because I've _outgrown _you." She walked up to his shoulder, just a few seconds away from brushing past him. "It only took me nine decades."

She walked away from him to go to get another drink to look around the gymnasium, but Damon had followed her, clearly not getting the hint. She sighed, frustrated, as he continued, "The problem, Claire, is that I don't _believe _you."

She turned to him sharply. "You don't have to. I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing this for _me. _Now can you just shut up and help me stake out this place? You've already been distracting enough with this skeptical nonsense." She almost scoffed at the thought of her having alternate intentions when it came to _stopping _sex with Damon. What did he think she wanted? A relationship? Next joke, please.

Damon kept his eyes locked on her, to which she accidentally caught and was unable to tear her eyes away from his gaze. The speakers above them had shifted the song from a slow one to a loud, upbeat one, and they heard a voice right beside them.

"Hey, I don't recognize you two." Damon and Claire both turned their heads to face a sandy-haired, blue-eyed teacher wearing a varsity jacket with the letter _M _on it. "How'd you guys get roped into chaperoning?" Both vampires were silent; the nature of this directness was quite concerning. "Alaric Saltzman," the man introduced. "I'm the new…History teacher."

Alaric held out his hand, to which Damon took and shook firmly. "Ah," he mused, "the…cursed faculty position."

"So I've been told." Alaric smiled.

"I'm sorry..." Claire turned to Damon. "The _what_?"

Damon looked between Alaric and Claire. "I'll…uh, tell you later," he mumbled, and she was left with no choice but to push it to the side as Damon spoke to the teacher again. "Damon. Salvatore," he added.

"Salvatore?" Alaric noted. "As in, uh, Stefan?"

"He's my little brother," Damon almost sung. "I'm his legal guardian, hence the…chaperoning."

"Ah," Alaric agreed, and then his eyes drifted to Claire. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Claire," she responded, almost weary of the direct teacher. "Claire King. I'm Stefan's friend from…err, _way _back. Hence, the chaperoning," she said, gesturing towards Damon to give credit to her plagiarized words.

"Well, I hear he's very bright," Alaric praised. "Not that I've had a chance to see for myself." He scoffed.

Damon defended his brother quickly, "Well, his attendance record's a little spotty. Family drama," he clarified.

Alaric nodded in understanding. "No parents?"

Damon seemed almost annoyed by this man's presence. "Mm, it's just the two of us now. And, Claire, of course." He jerked his head to the side to indicate her presence.

But Alaric didn't seem as interested in Claire as he was Damon. His eyes would flicker to the blonde-haired vampire at Damon's side, but he said nothing to her and focused on prying into Damon's life. "You, uh…you live here your whole life?"

"On and off," Damon responded. "Travel a bit."

"Really?" Alaric questioned, fishing for answers. "Where? Around the states?"

Damon gave the brown-nosing teacher a sideward, icy glance, and at this, Alaric began to apologize with a scoff. "I'm sorry. I'm nosy, I…I don't mean to pry." He looked between both Claire and Damon. "Look, it was nice meeting you two."

"You too," Damon and Claire said instantaneously, and Alaric wished them a good time at the dance before he walked away, ducking his head. Claire and Damon stood next to each other, watching as the mysterious history teacher disappeared into the crowd.

"You want to talk about bad intentions?" Claire muttered. "Because that teacher gives me some _serious _skeptical vibes."

At this, surprisingly, Damon agreed, "You and me both."

* * *

Damon had abandoned her to dance with some slutty teenage girl who was drooling all over him. Claire was watching from afar as Damon shamelessly groped this girl in the middle of the dance floor, never minding the fact she'd stated earlier. Stefan and Elena, all danced-out, came over to her as she was watching them, and Elena joined in on the observing. She spoke aloud to Stefan, "You _really _can't take him anywhere, can you?"

"Uh, _no_," Stefan returned, but his voice was teasing. Claire drained the rest of the fourth cup of punch she'd had to supplement her alcohol craving, and that's when she saw something. There was a man with a hood covering his face and a cap that secluded his eyes. Because of his lack of costume, this person was automatically on her suspicious list.

"Elena," Claire hissed through her teeth as she turned to Elena and the teenager straightened, hearing her distressed tone. Through her teeth, Claire spoke, "Back corner, it is him?"

Because she didn't get a good look at his face, Elena looked for her. Immediately, she gasped, turned back, and nodded.

Stefan straightened at this confirmation and touched Claire's arm lightly. "Get Damon," he demanded and began to fight the crowd to follow the suspicious character. Claire looked over at Elena.

"Stay here," she warned. "Don't move; there could be more. Damon and I will come get you," she promised, and then she was off in the crowd to find Damon still groping that same teenybopper. She didn't waste any time with niceties when she approached the teenage girl, gripped her arm tightly, and spun her out of Damon's grasp.

"Hey!" the girl protested in a shrieking voice. Claire's eyes focused in on the girl's and she began to use her powers of persuasion to get what she needed—Damon _alone._

"Leave. Now. Be shameful that you're letting a twenty-four year old man handle your ass like that and _never _do it again." She gave the girl a light smile and watched as she walked away, in a daze, leaving her and Damon on the dance floor by themselves.

Damon smirked at her. "If you wanted to dance with me, you should've just accepted my offer when it was on the table."

Claire didn't even attempt to toy with him. "Get over yourself, Damon. Look, he's here." It was all she needed to say to earn Damon's attention, and he immediately asked where Elena was. "She's over—"

The second Claire looked into the direction of where she left Elena; she could no longer see the human girl. She blinked once, twice, and a third time, looking around all the while, trying to see if she'd lost her surroundings. But, no, where she pointed at first was where Elena should've been. "Damon, she's gone."

"What?" Damon breathed, looking around, himself for the look-alike. It wasn't long before Stefan joined the searching party, fighting his way against the crowd.

"Where's Elena?" he asked rapidly, empty-handed. Claire turned around at him.

"What happened to the guy you were chasing after?"

Stefan shook his head. "He was compelled to lead me out. Where's Elena?" he repeated.

Damon muttered as he looked around the crowd, "Claire lost her," he said simply, but Stefan and Claire didn't even bother listening to Damon's excuses. "Come on," he urged and was the first one to force his way through the crowd to the exit, trying to pick up any scents and sounds he could possibly hear. It was when Damon, Claire, and Stefan _all _heard a high-pitched scream coming from the cafeteria that they realized where Elena was.

They fled to help her, and when they heard another shrilled scream, Stefan was the one to move faster than the rest. He went immediately to Elena while Claire and Damon barricaded the doors against escape.

"Hey, dickhead," Damon sung from behind the vampire, holding the wooden stake he had caught in the air as a weapon. He held his hands up in surrender, trying to make peace. "Nobody wants to kill you," he lied. "We just want to talk."

The vampire paid no attention to Damon's efforts, and he flashed over to Stefan, who caught the stake that Damon had thrown at him. Elena flinched when Stefan plunged the wooden stake into the attacking vampire's stomach, delaying him from further attacks. The vampire gasped and moaned in pain, falling to his knees. Damon and Claire both walked around to face the vampire as Stefan proposed, "Now you feel like talking?"

The vampire choked, "Screw you."

Stefan, with an angered face, thrust his fist against the wooden stake so that it resulted in the vampire groaning in further pain. The violence of the situation made the innocent Elena behind him just open her mouth in complete and utter shock.

"Wrong answer," Stefan hissed.

"Your reason," Claire began, crossing her arms as she walked over to Noah. "Give it to us. _Now. _I'm not as soft as Stefan here."

The vampire kneeling before them just gave a look of annoyance before he said, "It's fun."

Damon smirked at the answer, almost approving of this method of torture. Claire and Stefan shared a look, and when Stefan backed up, Claire took her foot and kicked the stake so that it impaled the vampire further, making him shout in infinite pain. The force of her kick was stronger than Stefan's punch, and it made him hunch over, gasping for air.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" she snapped, putting her foot firmly on the ground. "What do you want with Elena?"

The struggling vampire looked up underneath a layer of sweat, and he answered truthfully this time, "She looks like Katherine."

Claire, Stefan, and Damon all shared a glance, and Damon was the one who questioned this time. "You knew Katherine?"

The vampire beneath them made a sharp sound. "Ooh. You thought you were the only ones." He gave a gasping laugh. "You don't even remember me? Because I remember you." His eyes drifted up to Claire. "Clarissa King."

Claire looked down at him with disgust and just kicked the stake again so he grunted more, leaning forwards on his knees. Damon was the one who spoke next. "Tell me how to get into the tomb," Damon ordered, placing his hands on his knees so he could hover.

Claire looked over at Damon. "That's _seriously _number one on your priority list right now?"

Damon didn't even pay attention to her, as he hummed to the vampire to prompt him to respond.

"No," said the vampire simply. Stefan was the one, this time, to walk forward, place a firm hand on the vampire's shoulder, and twist the stake in more, coaxing a groan out of the tortured vampire's lips. He gasped out, "The Grimoire."

"Where is it?" Damon pushed.

Again, Stefan pushed in the stake, and again, the vampire gasped out of pain. Elena turned her head, mortified. "Check…the journal," the vampire gasped. "The journal. Use Jonathan's journal. Jonathan Gilbert's."

Damon straightened off of his knees, and Stefan, though reluctant, asked the next question. "Who else is working with you?"

Silence.

"Who else is there?" Damon shouted. When the vampire didn't respond, Claire stepped forward and sighed.

"I would _really _rather not kick you again but—"

"No," gasped the pleading, near-death vampire. "You're going to have to kill me," he said simply.

Claire bent down to face the vampire in the eyes. "Tell me who you're working with," she ordered, but the vampire shook his head. Her eyes drifted up to Damon's and Stefan's, and she rose from her knees. Stefan was the one who placed a hand on the vampire's shoulder again, ripped the stake out, and then impaled it right this time so that it pierced the vampire's heart.

The vampire gurgled, Stefan twisted the stake, and he gasped to the floor, turning desiccated. Elena's gasps and pants were now audible and frightened behind them, but all of the vampires in the room did not speak.

"W-What do we—how are you going find the others now?" Elena asked frantically, not accepting the sight of death in front of her.

Damon turned his head towards her and shook his head. "He had to die."

"But…" Elena trailed off, and Stefan answered her this time.

"Elena," he spoke softly. "He's been invited in."

That was all it took for Elena to understand, and a silence crashed over the band of vampires and their additional human. It was when a sound appeared outside that they all were weary. Damon and Claire both turned their heads sharply to the sound, and Stefan spoke to them. "Go. I've got this."

Almost immediately, both Claire and Damon went outside. Damon wasted no time with human speed once he saw the odd history teacher roaming the halls. The blonde vampire opened her mouth to protest, but Damon flashed in front of Alaric and he gasped.

Clearing his throat, Alaric spoke softly, "Hey."

"What were you doing?" Damon demanded as Claire walked up to the two of them, standing by the side. His voice was icy cold and suspicious. The compulsion was taking effect.

"Looking for Ms. Hilden," Alaric said in a monotone, his back straight. Damon began his compulsion harder now, searching for answers.

"Why are you in Mystic Falls?"

"Damon, is this really—?"

Alaric, who was forced to answer the question, interrupted Claire. "I got a job as a teacher."

"Do you know what I am?" insisted Damon.

"You're my student's brother."

"Is everything you're telling me the truth?"

"Yes."

"Then forget we had this conversation." He tore his eyes from Alaric's and looked at Claire, who was just intrigued. She felt like something was wrong, but Damon just patted Alaric's shoulder. "Come on, Claire. Let's go."

He and Claire rushed off, not once realizing that the history teacher was clenching vervain in his fist.

"Damon," she rushed out as he violently walked throughout the hallways. "Damon! Stop." She reached out and grabbed his arm tightly, spinning him around to face her. "What _was _that back there? The tomb? Katherine? I thought you were done with that. Bree said there was no other way."

"Well, obviously, there _is_," Damon spat at her. She removed her hand from his arm and tensed. "You know, you're just lucky vampires can't compel vampires. Otherwise, I would compel you right now to tell me what you're hiding."

"Why do I have to be hiding something?" Claire snapped, her tone angry and icy. "If anything, _you're _the one that's hiding something! You're always hiding something!"

"_You _were the one who wanted this arrangement," Damon snapped, walking forward. "It seems _highly _unlikely you want to cut ties."

"You're ridiculous," she snapped again, her eyes cold. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill, Damon! Is it so wrong of me to want to stop going behind my best friend's back? Or can you just not accept the fact that I don't find you attractive anymore?"

"Now that's a lie."

Claire scoffed. "I'm not having this conversation with your self-consumed ass. I'll go check on Elena and Stefan." She tried to walk away, but this time, Damon was the one that pulled her back.

"I _will _find out what you're up to," he warned her, his eyes dead serious. She just stared at him, but then jerked her arm back violently, turned on her heel, and walked away.

* * *

"I need to talk to you," Stefan said as he restrained Claire from leaving Elena's porch. He was going to spend the night with Elena just in case, but he needed to talk to his friend first.

"Yeah?" she questioned, turning back to him. Her thoughts were clouded with things she didn't want in there—things involving Damon. How _dare _he think that she was so wrapped up around him? If she wanted, she could easily pull the plug. She did the first time, and she could do it much faster now. He was just being a sore loser.

"I made a deal with Damon." _Oh, great, _Claire thought to herself bitterly. "He wants to get Katherine out of the tomb and…I figured, the best way to get Damon to trust me was to help him."

Claire crossed her arms at Stefan and shook his head. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do here, Stefan, but—"

"Just…listen to me for a second," Stefan said, holding up his hands. Claire obeyed him, nodding for him to continue. "Look, I know the _last _thing you want is Katherine to be out of that tomb and…to be honest, it's the last thing I want, to. That's why I lied." Claire stiffened, realizing. "I'm letting Damon believe that he can trust me, but…I don't want anyone out of that tomb, Claire. Especially not Katherine. She'll kill you the first chance she gets, no matter what I ask of her. And those twenty six other vampires aren't a risk I'm willing to take."

Claire inhaled. "Look at you, Stefan. All devious." But she didn't smile. Stefan nodded at her, but they both knew what they were doing and how risky it was. "I'll help you. Whatever you want, you know I don't want her out of there."

Stefan nodded. "That's…kind of what I needed to talk to you about." Claire raised an eyebrow in prompt. "Damon told me that he's skeptical of your return." Claire scoffed, just shaking her head in sheer amazement at the persistency of Damon Salvatore. "You know I don't believe him. He's just bitter when it comes to you. But, anyways, I need you to help me…and in order to do that; I need you to talk to Damon. I need you to get him to trust you. Bad-mouth him, be nice to him, just do whatever you need to so that you can get any information he won't give me."

Claire was taken back at his proposal. "Stefan, he hates me. He'll probably tell me less than he tells you."

Stefan shook his head. "You were his friend once, Claire," he retorted, his smile twinged in sadness. "You can try it again, can't you? Or…at least, _attempt _it? Make peace? For me?"

Stefan's expression overtook Claire. He was so hopeful…so naïve. Damon Salvatore would laugh her out the door if she wanted to be friends with him.

Then the thought crossed her mind and she gagged in her mouth. There was something that Damon Salvatore wanted from her that Stefan wasn't aware of. Something that she'd been denying him of for the last few days.

Clearing her throat, Claire mumbled, "I'll handle it." Her promise made Stefan smile, and he let her disappear off into the night, where she later turned up at the Salvatore house. Damon was somewhere off upstairs, and she knew he could hear her come in. She poured herself glass upon glass of bourbon, realizing that she needed to be at least _buzzed _to go upstairs and do what Stefan was asking her to do…indirectly. Really, Stefan was as oblivious to what she needed to do then the next hopeful vampire, but _she _knew what it would take to get back in Damon's good graces again.

That's why she rapped three times on the door, and waited for Damon to answer. He saw her in front of him, still dressed in her costume, but he, on the other hand, had stripped his leather jacket and was just about ready to strip the rest of his clothing. "Need something?" he almost barked.

She nodded, her eyes cloudy and desperate. Damon could see straight through them. "Shut up," she growled and barged into the room, backing Damon up so she could slam the door behind her. Damon was clearly amused and pleased with her arrival, and he waited for her. "You were right."

Damon smirked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Just _shut up_," she pleaded desperately, but Damon wouldn't take it. With an exaggerated groan, she just reached forward and pulled his neck towards hers, and he, without hesitation, flashed forward so that he could show her he understood. Her back hit the door, and they were inches apart. Damon's smirk was evident before he ducked his head, his lips skimming over the skin of her neck and she moaned through the feeling of intoxication regarding the eons of alcohol she'd had. Her hands gripped him closer, almost clawing at his shirt, and she moved them so that they began to slide down the sides of his torso and towards the hem of the plain black t-shirt.

His lips were at her ear when he spoke, "I _told _you, Claire, I'm _irresistible. _It was only a matter of time." Damon's fingers traveled to her tied-up hair, and he teasingly pulled one of the ends so that the knot untied itself. She watched his expression as he painstakingly removed the ribbon and it fell to the floor, letting Claire's soft, glowing hair now spill in slight curls over her shoulders.

Claire growled, and she didn't waste another second before kicking her legs, moving them from the door so that they backed up closer to his bed. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, gripped it tightly, and forced it upwards. Damon held his hands up so that the shirt was easily taken off of his body and thrown onto the floor. "If I hear so much as _one _more 'I told you so' out of your mouth, I'm out of this room that _very _instant."

"And then you'll be right back at it again," he retorted, laughing against her hands that skimmed down the length of his chest and pushed so that he fell back down on the bed. The mattress shuddered beneath him, but she wasted no more time. With a flip of her hair, she braced herself to gain control. The entire time she spent climbing on top of him, Claire thought of how this could be used. She needed to get him to spill her secrets to her, and this was the way to do it. No matter how much she wanted to stay away from him, there was something always pulling her back. Oddly enough, this time, it was Stefan.

Damon groaned when she bent down, her back arching, and she kissed down his bare chest, her hands getting a feel for his muscles. Her eyes drifted up to see him close his eyes, and she smirked to herself, realizing that she was accomplishing what she wanted.

But there was something she wanted to ask first.

"Worst thing I've ever done to you?" she said suddenly, removing her lips from her skin just as they neared his hipbones. Damon opened his eyes to meet hers, and though her lips were removed, she kept her hands on his chest for support.

"What?" he breathed out, shaking his head against the bed.

She nodded at him, prompting him to answer. "Tell me. What's the worst thing I ever did to you?"

Damon stared at her, confused for a split moment. He propped himself up on his elbows so that he was able to fully stare into her eyes to determine the seriousness. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I've always wondered. I've done a lot of crap to you. I can remember _my _favorite, but…well, obviously, I don't know yours."

Damon studied her, as if inspecting her for falseness in her attempts. She didn't once breathe wrong, for she was afraid he'd notice if she even took in the sharpest breath. It was a good thing vampires were excellent liars.

"You sure you want to know?" She nodded, and he shifted underneath of her, pulling her with him so that he was sitting straight and she was straddling his hips, one knee on each side. His eyes scanned her body as he responded. "It was summertime, I'd just come back from the war, you were engaged to Christopher Fell, and the week that I came back, you came out into town with him in a…very _revealing _corset dress that drove me insane." His eyes drifted up to meet hers. She was surprised, to say the least. He thought she would mention something else—burning his record collection on fire or something like that. Instead, it was this? "You tortured me, Claire, and for that…"

His hands went up to her restricting top, and she didn't expect what came next. Damon flipped them over so that her body was pinned against the mattress, and he completely shredded her top so that it was torn in scraps, and he threw it on the floor. An unexpected gasp escaped her mouth, and then she laughed, feeling the effects of the alcohol, Damon's confession, his maneuver, and his pleased expression at the sight of her half-naked in front of him. It was no longer her turn for control when his lips began to attack _her _body next; and there was no talking—just like always.

* * *

**Mystic Falls, 1864**

_Damon and Stefan were walking the streets of the town when Stefan spotted someone in his vision and shouted a name that Damon wasn't very fond of. He immediately jerked his name at Stefan's shout of, "Clarissa!" _

_Damon watched as Clarissa jerked her head up and looked around, looking for the voice that called out her name. She had changed from the last time he'd seen her—before he was enlisted into the war. He'd been back a few days now, but he hadn't seen her or heard about her since his return. After all, he was too preoccupied with the new tenant in the Salvatore house to notice. _

_After all, she was the one that had ruined everything between them. And she was the one who decided to befriend his brother and break his father's drinking glass as retaliation for something he didn't do. _

_Stefan turned to his brother sharply. "Please be kind, brother. She's my friend, and I would like you both to be accepting of each other." _

_Damon's eyes weren't focused on his brother, because he was now focused on Clarissa. Like he'd noticed, she had changed ever since he'd left. She was…more beautiful, somehow. She'd grown a few inches in height, shrunk a few inches in waist size, and had better taste in corsets—something that he was now beginning to hate. This moment, this exact moment, Damon Salvatore was very…_angry _with Clarissa for not letting him do what he wanted with her. He was in control on the outside, but on the inside, there was one thing he wanted and one thing he wanted only—her. _

"_I'll…try, brother," Damon said, his voice strained. Stefan smiled to himself, but it was when Damon saw Clarissa smile at his brother that his heart began to pound violently. Her smile, it was bright and mature…so unlike when he'd left. He was regretting every decision he had ever made. _

_Until someone came up behind her and clutched her hand in his. _

_Damon growled to his brother beside him, trying to protect his voice from his emotions, "What is she doing with Christopher Fell?"_

_Stefan turned to Damon, confused. "You hadn't heard, brother?" he asked, and Damon just looked at his brother for him to continue. "After your falling out, Marianne and Edward had to search for someone else for Clarissa. They chose Thomas and Honoria's son, Christopher Fell, to be her new husband." He turned to Clarissa and Christopher, who were making their way over to them now. Damon felt his heart break in pieces and rage begin to coat his veins. As if it weren't bad enough that she was getting married, but to Christopher Fell? Besides his brother, Christopher Fell was one of Damon's closest friends. To be fair, he didn't know that they kissed; no one knew that. But, it was still a betrayal on so many levels. "They were announced to be married last week. She seems to be really happy with him." _

"_Good morning, Stefan," Clarissa chirped as she walked over to him with Christopher by her side, giving a polite smile to Stefan. _

"_Clarissa," Stefan returned, giving her an equally bright smile. Clarissa, hesitant, turned towards Damon and cleared her throat. _

"_Damon." _

_Damon's heart broke in a million pieces, and his desire intensified by ten times seeing her up close. She wore her hair down and loose so that it spilled over the tight corset, as if torturing him in a way that he did not care to be tortured with. Beside her, Christopher nodded curtly to Damon. "Mr. Salvatore," he greeted. _

"_Clarissa," Damon said smoothly, his voice icy. Beside him, Stefan shut his eyes and basked in the pain that came along with his brother's attitude. "Christopher. I've just now learned of your engagement." Damon's eyes moved to Clarissa, who winced in the slightest. "I guess a congratulations is in order." _

"_Yes, it is, isn't it?" There was no doubt in Damon's mind that Christopher was speaking nasty things to him in his own brain. After all, Damon and Clarissa were the ones who were supposed to be married first, but after their falling out, their parents decided that it wouldn't happen. The argument in which their parents walked into had gotten so heated, they had to peel each other off of the other. "Clarissa and I are supposed to be married by spring of next year." He said nothing about Damon's invitation, and Damon suspected that he had none. _

"_Well, isn't that wonderful," Damon almost spat. Clarissa tensed beside her fiancé, and Damon's eyes roamed over her for a quick second. "My apologies, but if you'll excuse me." Damon turned to his brother. "Stefan, I will meet you at the marketplace." _

_Stefan, though angry at his brother's false promise to be on his best behavior, nodded and watched as Damon, with one lingering glance to the blonde vision before him, brushed past her and walked away without a single following word._

* * *

**So, Claire was engaged to Christopher Fell. The actor that portrays him is on my profile, like all of the others. Fair warning, we haven't met Hallie yet and we won't for a while. I'm just planning ahead for the future. **

**Okay, so that's it for this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed! Tell me what you think in a review!**

_**Love, **_

_**BellaSalvatore1918**_

_**X**_


	5. Children of the Damned

**Hey, everyone! Sorry it's been a while since my last update, finals have been a little tough. But they're over now and I've got some free time to write. Next update will be Double Vision, sorry for all of those who have been waiting for that. Anyways, hope you all enjoy this chapter! Review when you're finished if you can!**

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)**

* * *

**Children of the Damned**

**Mystic Falls, 1864**

_Stefan and Clarissa walked the streets of the brightly lit town square, arm in arm, laughing over memories that just felt like yesterday. Clarissa noticed that Stefan's mood had lately been heavily increased, and she had her own suspicions as to who was the cause of this. _

"_So," she began with a sigh. "This…Katherine Pierce. Am I mistaken or have you and your brother become quite taken with her?" _

_Stefan turned his head to glance at her in just the slightest as the two friends leisurely walked. "She's…wonderful, Clarissa." The female just tilted her head in a sort of disbelieving manner. "Really. You two would get along nicely." _

"_I highly doubt it." She pulled them to a stop and looked her best friend in the eyes. "I'm worried for you, Stefan. You are aware that Miss Pierce is toying with both you and your brother, correct?" _

_Stefan raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you begin to care about Damon again?" _

_Clarissa stopped at the question, and her eyes drifted to the side to see the very subject of the dreaded question standing just a few yards away with Miss Katherine by his side. When she turned back to Stefan, she gave him a smile. "I haven't, Stefan. I am merely concerned for _your _safety." She paused. "I have begun to see a change in you that I never thought I'd see." _

_Stefan's smile brightened at the question, though it was a dark subject that Clarissa was trying to touch on. "Clarissa, that's happiness." His smile forced one out of hers, but she was so skeptical of Katherine Pierce that it was hard to fake happiness for her friend. "Much like yours with Christopher." _

_Her heart sank in her chest. Christopher Fell, her fiancé. The future panned out in her head between them and, quite frankly, she saw herself unhappy. But Christopher was whom her parents wanted her to marry, and so then it'd be._

"_Yes." Her voice was merely a whisper. "Your happiness is…much like mine, Stefan." _

* * *

There was a rapping sound on her door that brought Claire out of her much needed sleep, considering the track record of this town in such short time. She groaned loudly, trying to tell whomever it was at the door to leave, but it was more than persistent. Claire tried to ignore it, refusing to give into the aggressive way of waking her up. Sure enough, the knocking ceased, and she smiled to herself with closed eyes and turned on her side, clutching the sheets around her.

It was when she sensed another person in her bed that she opened her eyes to find them pouring right into Damon's. Immediately, she jumped up.

"Damon!" she shouted at him, pulling the sheet around her tighter. But his body weight prevented the sheet from covering anything above her camisole-covered torso, but it was a good thing that Damon had been on the outside of the sheet. Though she had decent clothing on top, underneath the sheet, she had nothing but a pair of boyshorts on. "What the _hell _are you doing in here?"

Damon shrugged beside her. "You didn't answer the door."

"Yeah. I don't know if you know this, but that's the international sign of _leave me alone_," she retorted, pulling herself up on her knees and running a hand through her hair. She looked back at Damon, who just smirked. "Okay, quick question: _why_ are you still in my bed?"

For safety precautions, of course, Claire had sent herself back to her bedroom after being with Damon—and it was a good thing, too. Stefan and Elena had decided to come back to the boarding house and spend the night there. She ran into them getting an evening glass of bourbon and then she went back up to her room and slept off the last couple hours. However, Damon, the persistent bastard, had obviously invaded her solitude.

"Well, _I _thought we could—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." She held up a hand for him to see and listened. Elena and Stefan were awake, she realized, and relayed this to Damon. "Stefan and Elena are up. He'll hear."

Damon frowned. "I was going to say, I thought we could work together to figure out who the other vampires are in this town," he admitted, causing her to fall silent. "But, I mean, if we're talking about that—"

"Hold on a second. Who says I'm helping _you _with anything? All you want is to get into that tomb."

Damon shrugged. "Yeah. But Stefan agreed to help me, and since you and Stef are joined at the hip…" Claire raised an eyebrow in prompt, and Damon sighed. "Whatever. You want to be boring, be boring. I put Stefan and Elena on Gilbert Journal duty. You can help them." With that, he swung his legs off of the other side of her bed and stood up. Claire watched as he walked around the bed, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You know, now it's _my _turn to be skeptical of you." Damon turned around at her with a puzzled expression. She continued without hesitation, "What are _you _up to? You were so insistent upon getting revenge on this town. You expect me to believe all you want is Katherine now?" It would've been a shock to Damon that she learned this, but she managed to get him to talk about it in the midst of their fun while Stefan and Elena were gone the night before.

Damon stared at her for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. I expect you to believe that." She scoffed, but he continued. "Don't act like I'm not doing this for you, either. Once I get Katherine back, I'm gone, and you'll never have to deal with me again."

"Oh, so bringing Katherine back so she could kill me _again _is completely for my benefit, right?"

This time, Damon shook his head. "I told you I'd keep her away." He moved towards the door. "I meant it."

In an instant, he was gone, and Claire was left to get dressed. In no time at all, she was downstairs, where she met Stefan and Elena who were conversing in the parlor with each other. "Where's Damon?" Claire asked, coming up to the threshold and leaning against it.

"He went down to the basement," Stefan told her, to which Claire nodded in understanding. "So…you ready?"

Claire raised an eyebrow as Stefan and Elena came towards her. "For what?"

"Damon put us on journal duty," Elena said with certain distaste. "Stefan and I are just about to go to my house and see if we can dig it up."

Stefan spoke next, "Are you coming?"

Claire looked towards the basement and then back at Stefan with a nod. "Yeah, I guess. Let's go."

It didn't take long for them all to get back to Elena's house, where she immediately pulled out several boxes and began to rummage through them. Stefan watched as Elena searched through Jonathan Gilbert's things, and Claire was the one who got seconds on the interesting items.

"Who knew the Gilberts were such pack rats?" she muttered to herself with a shrug as she put down a book that looked like it was from before she was born.

Elena sighed worriedly. "Do you think Damon really believes us?" she asked, making it an open question to both vampires. "That we're all trying to help him?"

Claire snorted. "Damon the Skeptic? Hell no."

Stefan sort of agreed with her statement, but put it in a nicer way. "I…don't think Damon really knows what to believe. Trust isn't something that naturally comes to him. Hence…" Stefan gestured towards Claire.

"Damon the Skeptic," she finished off, giving Elena a small smile. But Claire could see right through the human—she was sensing a feeling of compassion towards Damon that _oozed _out of Elena.

"You know," Elena started, "I really think that Damon believes that everything that he's done, every move that's he's made, he's done for love."

Claire shook his head. "No, Elena, Damon…" How did she even begin to describe Damon's ways of affection. "Damon doesn't…_know _what love is. He knows what infatuation is. He knows what obligation is. Love is something that Damon hasn't fully…grasped yet."

Elena looked up at the blonde vampire sitting across from her. "Have you ever been in love?" she asked, fishing for something that she knew Claire wasn't going to give her if she asked directly.

It was a good thing Clarissa King had a knack for picking out fishing statements. "Aw, who needs to be in love when you've got Stefan Salvatore as your best friend?" She evaded the question, throwing a glance to Stefan, who rolled his eyes playfully.

"I think _you're _the one who hasn't grasped the concept of love, Claire. I mean…how many boyfriends have you had over the decades?" Claire shrugged simply at Stefan's question. "Yeah. And let's not forget JFK."

She groaned. "What is with everyone bringing him up? It was a fling! Sue me, he was our best-looking president. To be honest, if I wasn't here right now, I'd probably be making a move on Prince William." Claire looked over at Elena. "But, there's a difference between me and Damon. I know _how _to love, I just choose to…_not _fall in it," she confessed as she picked at the book beside her. "Damon falls head first. It's not healthy."

Elena sighed. "Well, I think it's twisted…sure, but it's kind of sad," she said, her voice compassionate and despaired.

Stefan was the one that answered this time. "There are other ways to get what you want," he explained. "You don't have to kill people. Damon has no regard for human life. He enjoys inflicting pain on others." Claire thought that Stefan's statement might be taken a _little _too far, but she had seen the way he was after Damon left him. It broke his heart. "For a hundred and forty-five years, every single time that I have let my guard down and let Damon back into my life, he's done something to make me regret that. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"So what do you think will happen if the tomb gets opened and Damon gets Katherine back?" Elena asked, this being a valid question. Claire let Stefan explain this one.

"I think that, no matter what Damon promises, a lot of people will die."

Elena straightened and exhaled, realizing quickly what they had to do to stop Stefan's brother. They had to find the journal. She reached forward and grabbed the first thing she saw in the box in front of her, and Claire looked over her shoulder.

"That's Jonathan Gilbert," she noticed, and was aware of Stefan now shuffling to get over to them.

Elena reached forward, setting the picture down, and grabbed a box with a confused expression. "What's this?" she asked before opening the lid of the wooden box. Stefan, Elena, and Claire all peered inside to see a muzzle. Stefan and Claire straightened, and they threw suspicious glances towards each other.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of them were interrupted when Jeremy, Elena's brother, came into the kitchen to see two people he knew and one girl he didn't. Elena shut the box in her hand and put it back in the cardboard one in front of her.

"Hey. Just…um. Going through some stuff. Feeling sentimental. Dad had this whole family journal from years ago. I thought I'd dig it up," Elena tried to make it sound nonchalant, and it worked.

Jeremy hopped up on the counter. "Jonathan Gilbert's journal?"

Elena tilted her head. "Yeah, what do you know about it?"

"I just did a history report on it," he responded immediately.

"Oh!" Elena exclaimed, still keeping her voice calm. "So…where is it now?"

"I gave it to Mister Saltzman. He wanted to see it." Elena and Stefan looked at each other and Claire sighed. But Jeremy was confused as to what a random woman was doing in his kitchen with his sister and her boyfriend. "Um…"

Elena looked back at Jeremy and then to where he was looking, and she inhaled sharply. "Oh. Sorry, Jeremy, this is Stefan's friend, Claire. Claire, this is my brother Jeremy." She turned back to Jeremy and made an excuse. "We, uh...we just all made plans to hang out today." Jeremy nodded once, and things were silent for a moment before Stefan looked at Claire.

"Well, uh…we've got to go back to the house, don't we?"

"Yep," Claire said, giving Jeremy a small, awkward smile. "Uh, yeah, definitely. Nice to meet you Jeremy." He just nodded again and Elena got up from her chair to walk Stefan and Claire to the door, where they made their plans to get the journal from the shady history teacher.

* * *

Stefan wanted Elena to stay back at the house while he and Claire went to get the journal, and she did. Claire followed Stefan through the hallways of the school cryptically, using their vampire stealth to get into Alaric's classroom. The two of them didn't have to do any distracting, for the History teacher was already out of the classroom by the time they'd arrived. To their surprise, though, the journal was nowhere in sight.

It was when Claire heard the sound of something being fired that she whipped around and caught the wooden stake in her hand inches before it touched her heart. Before them stood the History teacher with a secret, and she was pissed to say the least.

Alaric hastily began to reload his weapon, but Claire just chucked the wooden stake to the side.

"_Not. Cool," _she warned before flashing behind the teacher, who was having trouble with his device. He turned to face her with a gasp, and she gave him sickeningly sweet smile. "I _knew _there was something off about you." She grabbed the weaponry from the teacher without using an unnecessary amount of effort to get it.

"Claire, take it easy," Stefan warned in front of her, but she pushed the teacher to the side so that he crashed into a bunch of desks. The timid human desperately grasped at the chairs to sit down. "Claire…"

"Relax, Stefan," she said, sauntering forward. "I won't hurt the guy. I just want to know what a boring high school History teacher is doing shooting out wooden stakes at the first person he sees." She shrugged. "Granted, _yes. _It wasn't without cause, but it _still _pisses me off," the female vampire sung.

Stefan walked up to her and gently grabbed the weaponry from her hand. He studied it closely and then looked at Alaric.

"What is this?" he asked. "Compressed air?" Alaric didn't say a word. "Did you make it yourself?" Again, silence. "Who are you?" Nothing but the sound of the heat radiating from the school's filters. "Look, we're not going to hurt you."

"Unless you try to kill me again. Then I'll hurt you," Claire added and watched as Stefan passed the weapon back to Alaric with caution. He took Claire's arm and helped her over to one of the desks, where he let her sit in the chair while he was placed on the actual desk part.

"Now," Stefan began, "Who are you?" he asked again.

"I'm a teacher," Alaric responded. Claire scoffed.

"You're not _seriously _trying to lie to us right now, are you? I'm warning you, I don't want to do this the hard way, but you _did _just try to turn me into a kebab, so…" she trailed off, pursing her lips. "Choice is yours, buddy."

Alaric was silent for a moment, but then he inhaled sharply and gave in. "I'm also a historian. And while researching Virginia, I—I made a few discoveries about your town."

"So you show up like Van Helsing?" Stefan questioned in disbelief. "Come on. Tell us the truth."

Realizing that he wouldn't get out of this until he gave the vampires what they wanted, Alaric chuckled softly, "My wife was a paranormal psychologist. She spent her life researching paranormal activity in this area." _Now _it made sense. "It was her work that lead me here."

"Where's your wife?" Stefan asked.

"Dead," answered Alaric. "A vampire killed her."

Claire snorted. "Figures. Vampire hunting History teacher out for revenge for a dead loved one. This story never gets tiring, does it?" She sighed and crossed her legs, putting her head on her hand. "All right, so tell us where the Gilbert Journal is."

"What do you want with it?"

"Where is it?" Stefan repeated the question out of his friend's mouth, his voice relentless. Claire approved of the badass-Stefan form. It suited him sometimes.

"It's on my desk," Alaric answered, as if it were obvious. Claire's eyes drifted to the desk and back to Alaric.

"This isn't a game, Van Helsing," she taunted. "It's not on the desk. Tell us where you put it."

Alaric looked back at the desk, himself, and then turned to both the vampires that were waiting for an answer. All he could say was, "It _was _on my desk."

Before the conversation could progress, there was a pinging sound in Stefan's pocket. All talk was halted for a moment when Stefan reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone to see a text message from Elena. Stefan sighed, causing Claire to raise her eyebrows and ask, "What is it?"

"Damon," Stefan said simply, turning his head to Claire. "Apparently, he just…showed up at Elena's house and...is making dinner."

"Damon being domestic?" Claire wrinkled her nose. "Nope. I can't see it." Stefan looked over at her with hopeful eyes, and she quickly caught on. She groaned, "Stefan…come on…"

"I'm worried," he defended himself. "You know Damon can be…persuasive. And I'll handle…things here." Stefan's eyes drifted up to Alaric, who just sat in his seat quietly.

Claire looked over at the History teacher and grumbled, "Too bad. It was much more fun here." She sighed and straightened, pointing a finger at Stefan. "You owe me. Big time."

* * *

Elena answered the doorbell as promptly as it was rung, and she was relieved to find that it was Claire standing at the doorstep. She would've been happy with either Claire or Stefan, she just didn't feel comfortable with Damon in her house, sharing her food, and conversing with her family like they were his own. Elena mouthed a "thank you" right when Claire crossed the threshold, and Claire nodded as they began to walk to the kitchen to find Damon cooking sauce by the stove. He picked up a wooden spoonful to taste it, and then basked in his own cooking skills. He was just about to throw the spoon back in when Claire flashed to him and caught the wooden spoon.

"Okay, _ew_," she complained, taking the spoon out and clutching it in her hand. Damon gave her a taunting smile. "That's like spitting in the whole meal."

Damon sighed and turned to Elena. "You invited her?" Elena shrugged and began to set the plates that she had just started to arrange before Claire walked in. Damon looked back at the blonde vampire. "Are you going to be breathing down my neck the entire time I'm cooking?"

"Hey, if I'm eating anything _you're _cooking, you can bet your ass I'll make sure you didn't spit in my dish." She gave him a sour smile before moving to the sink, where she placed the wooden spoon down in it and Damon scowered the kitchen drawers for another one.

Claire walked over to Elena next, who was already annoyed by Damon's presence. She relieved the human of her duties, to which Elena was grateful, and the teenager went upstairs to stay as far away from Damon as possible so she didn't spill the beans. Damon walked over to the kitchen as Claire walked back to the counters, searching through it for the glasses, and when she came back with all five, she wasn't surprised to find that Damon brushed against her, trapping her body in between him and the counter behind her.

"Whoa!" He smirked. "Mm."

Claire shook her head and chuckled to herself as she moved past him.

"Cute," she said pointedly. "But stop doing that."

"Doing _what_?" Damon asked in an offended tone. She didn't bother with his childish games but responded in an uninterested tone to discourage him.

"You know what. That move was deliberate."

"Well, yeah, I was…_deliberately _trying to get to the sink." She didn't turn to face him, but Claire chuckled under her breath as she continued to set the table. Damon's voice was evident behind her. "Speaking of Stefan, where is he? I thought he'd be with you."

Claire sighed and circled the table, setting down the glasses. "He'll be here soon, Damon. He just had a few…things to take care of."

"What kind of things?"

"Things. He'll explain when he gets back."

The two of them went silent after this, and Damon stirred his sauce on the stove. Without looking back at her, he spoke again. "Is it real?"

Claire let out an exhausted sigh. "You're going to have to be more specific." She walked over to the drawers and picked through them until she found the silverware. Damon spoke while she picked out the utensils she needed.

"This…renewed sense of brotherhood," Damon clarified, peering back at her. "Can I trust him?"

His voice was serious this time, and she saw a change that she'd never seen before. Something was in Damon's eyes…almost as if he was hoping she'd tell him that he could trust his brother again. She remembered, very distinctly, how it used to be between the two of them before their own falling out. It seemed that every relationship Damon had involved himself in—romantically or brotherly—fell through the cracks. The point Elena had made earlier in the day had raced back into her mind, but she pushed it out immediately. The last thing she wanted to feel for Damon Salvatore was _pity_.

She tried to keep herself in check, making sure she didn't slip and sound too nice to him. "Yes, Damon, you can trust him. I, however, am not sure that _he _can trust _you_."

Claire turned back to the table to continue placing the items at each set, and it was no surprise to her that he was standing behind her just as she turned around. Damon was close to her—perhaps _too _close. "Can I trust him?" he repeated his question, his eyes staring hardly into hers.

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Vampires can't compel vampires, Damon. You know that. Knock it off."

"I wasn't _compelling _you," he retorted, incredulous. "I'm not an idiot, Claire. I just want you to answer me. All…past aside, I need to trust you right now." She straightened, and his eyes wandered across her features. "Answer me. Honestly. Can I trust him?"

Claire sighed at him, her hot breath almost mixing in with Damon's. "Damon, of course you can. He's your brother." She answered the question with a straight face, and she felt strangely terrible for lying. Maybe it wouldn't have been that hard if she was actually enemies with him like Stefan thought they were—but knowing what they did behind those closed doors, it made her feel terrible inside. Using Damon to veer him away from suspicion was a _terrible _thing to do, hatred or not.

Regardless, she put her emotions to the side and brushed past Damon to grab the napkins spewed out on the center isle.

"I know he's my brother," Damon retorted, spinning around to see her. "You _know _there was a time that I could trust him more than anyone."

"Of course." Claire scoffed, folding the napkins.

"There was a time when I trusted you more than him," Damon admitted, earning her attention. She glanced up at him to find him staring at her over by the table, but she just cleared her throat and shrugged.

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, and that's kind of my _point_." Frustrated with the topic, she put down the napkins and listened to him, looking back at the Salvatore to find him with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against one of the chairs in the kitchen. "You don't think that we could ever get back to that? Being friends again?"

She started at him incredulously and couldn't help the tiniest smile that slid onto her lips. "Are you saying that you _want _to be friends with me again, Damon?"

"I think that I'm getting Katherine back," Damon retorted, shrugging. "And that's going to require a change between us."

At this, she scoffed. "Wow. All right, so you just want to make sure I don't go seducing you at night." An amused smile twitched its way onto her lips and Damon copied it. "Well, you don't have to worry. I'm sure I'll find another boy toy to play with." Claire sighed deeply and returned to the napkins, but moved on from the topic at hand. "As for Stefan...all I'm trying to say is that you can trust _him _if you let him know that he can trust _you_." "

Damon raised his eyebrows. "You sound like you're lecturing me."

"Depends on if you _need _to be lectured," she countered, giving him a teasing glance. Damon scoffed, half-chuckling, half disinterested, and then he spoke again.

"I just want her back," he defended himself, causing Claire to straighten. "I'm _sure _you can at least understand that, all differences aside."

It was a hard thing to admit such understandings, but Claire didn't want to lie to him about this. There was already enough lying to go around for a century of hate. Plus, she'd seen Damon with Katherine back in eighteen sixty-four. The surge of jealousy was _still _there, even after all these years.

"Yeah. I get it. You'd walk through water for her. Jump through flames. Do anything. I understand."

Claire brushed past him with the table napkins in her hand, and she began to place them at the table. Damon's voice was in her ear right behind her, "Then _you _will understand what I will do if anyone gets in my way."

She didn't even turn around at him while scoffing, "That sounds like a threat."

"Maybe it is," he agreed, and she could feel the slight pads of his fingertips brush against her hip. "But, trust me when I say this, Claire. This is in your best interest, too."

She raised an eyebrow and forced herself to turn around. "What do you mean?" Claire asked, beyond confused. Damon's eyes poured into hers, and for a moment, time was completely lost. Neither one of them spoke a word, and Damon just let his eyes linger until a sad, almost hurt smile curved up on his lips that were barely inches from hers.

"Sauce is probably ready," he whispered and turned on his heel to go back to the stove, leaving the question unanswered.

* * *

Claire and Jenna had been introduced with Elena's interjection, and the three of them were in the kitchen after dinner while Jeremy and Damon were playing video games in the living room. Elena searched through more boxes with Claire and Jenna's help, but all Jenna seemed to be focused on was whispering about Damon's looks.

"He is _ridiculously _hot," Jenna exclaimed in a hushed tone that could still be heard by Damon. Elena immediately hushed her, and Damon's smile was painted elegantly across his lips at the compliment.

"Shh," Elena demanded. "Come on, Aunt Jenna."

"What?" Jenna shrugged harmlessly. "I'm simply stating a fact." She looked at Claire. "Seriously. You can't tell me you don't think he's hot."

"Oh, you're right. He's hot." Claire shrugged as well, earning a smile from Jenna. "But that doesn't change the fact that he's a raging _asshat_." She peered up at Jenna with a mischievous smile, knowing Damon could hear her.

Damon rolled his eyes on the couch, and the conversation was dropped with a chuckle from Elena's lips. Jenna moved on to asking about the box that Elena was digging through, "What are you doing with all this stuff?"

"I thought there might be something about my birth parents," Elena confessed, sighing as she closed the box.

Jenna swiveled on her heel. "Have you told Jeremy?"

"I will," Elena answered. "When the time is right. In the meantime, Claire's offered to help me find her." It was true; ever since the Georgia trip where Elena had learned about her situation, she had asked Stefan to help, who had asked Claire.

"Yeah, _not _much to go on in that department." The vampire sighed. "You'd be surprised how many women named Isobel live in a fifty mile radius. And that's not even taking into account if she moved or not…"

Jenna let out a heavy breath. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

The three women wanted to continue the conversation, but there was a ring at the doorbell, to which Elena realized quickly, "That's Stefan."

On the couch, Damon immediately jumped out of it and went to the door, earning a sign of distaste from Jeremy, who wasn't pleased with the fact that Damon up and left. Claire, Damon, and Elena all answered the door to see Stefan, who just sighed at the presence of his brother, but was relieved that Claire was there to help. "Well?" Damon prompted, and then Stefan told his brother about the fact that someone stole it—Stefan didn't figure out who. "Who took it?"

"I don't know," answered Stefan as the four of them went out on the porch together. Damon turned around and pointed at his brother suggestively.

"You know what, I _bet _it's that teacher. There's something _really _off about him…"

"No," Stefan answered immediately, happy that Claire hadn't once opened her mouth. "He doesn't know anything. Somebody got to him right before me."

"Who else knew it was there?" demanded Damon. Stefan turned his head inside at the one person who knew the answer to this question, and Damon quickly realized. Elena, however, wasn't so pleased with Damon's new plan.

"No. Damon, leave him out of it!"

"Why?" Damon protested in a high-pitched tone. "What's the big deal?"

"Damon!" Elena complained, but Damon wasn't listening to him. The two vampires and the human teenager followed the raven-haired vampire on a mission inside, where Damon sat next to Jeremy on the arm of the couch.

"So," he began sweetly. "I hear you found a _really _cool journal from back in the day. Who else did you show it to?"

"Huh?" Jeremy asked, confused, as he focused on his video game.

"Don't ask questions, just spill," Damon prompted, keeping his tone light. But, on the inside, everyone but Jeremy knew he was absolutely mad.

Jeremy turned to him and chuckled. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Jer, did you tell anyone other than Mr. Saltzman about Jonathan Gilbert's journal?" Elena asked, the question sounding harmless yet interrogative coming from his sister. Jeremy was obviously deeply confused on the couch, and quite annoyed, it seemed.

"Why is everybody so obsessed with that thing?"

"Who else did you tell?" Elena pushed.

Jeremy shrugged. "Just that girl, Anna."

Surprisingly, Damon knew what he was talking about. "The hot, weird one?"

"Yeah."

"Who's Anna?" Stefan asked. Damon turned around at his brother sharply.

"That's…what I wanna find out." The vampire turned back to Jeremy. "How do you know her?" Behind them, Elena's phone rang, and she immediately turned to go answer it. Meanwhile, Stefan, Damon, and Claire all stayed in the living room listening to Damon's interrogation.

"I just…know her," Jeremy answered. Thinking of something helpful, he added, "She wants me to meet her at the Grill tonight."

"Perfect!" Damon exclaimed. "I'll drive." He tilted his head. "Come on." Damon dragged Jeremy with him, and the confused teenager went along with him. Claire turned to walk out with Damon, but Stefan grabbed her arm back and they waited until Damon was outside to speak in a _hushed _tone so that Damon couldn't hear.

"Stefan, if we don't go with him—"

Stefan shook his head. "I've already got it," Stefan whispered, pulling out a roll of papers. "It seems our shady History teacher is actually pretty smart."

Claire felt bad about sending Damon on a wild goose chase, and his words echoed through her head: _"This is for your best interest, too." _She had no idea what it meant, but she wasn't willing to find out. Getting Katherine out was a risk that no one should be willing to take.

* * *

Elena had found the location of the Grimoire, and not a second after they'd found it, they headed out after it before Damon could figure it out. The three of them grabbed shovels from Elena's garage and wasted absolutely no time in getting over to the woods over by the original Salvatore mansion. There were no other gravestones; just Giuseppe's. While Elena pressured Stefan about the sureness of the location of this Grimoire, Claire set up around the grave so that they could start digging. Claire had her shovel, Stefan handed Elena hers, and then he gripped his own in his hand, broke ground, and they all began to dig up Giuseppe's grave.

Elena grew tired after a while, which was understandable. Stefan and Claire kept digging up the deep grave, and eventually, Claire sighed and stopped, putting her shovel in the dirt for just a moment. "Just so you know, Stefan, that's _two _favors you owe me after today."

Stefan laughed to himself. "I'll keep that in mind," he agreed, and Claire stopped for a moment while he slaved away.

Claire paused for a second, thinking over the past. "What do you think would've happened?" Stefan stopped digging for a moment to look up at her, confused. "If I was revealed as a vampire before they tried to burn them all in the church. I was just lucky Emily was on my side and made me a daylight ring against Katherine's wishes." She paused. "Do you think your father would've burned me in that church, too?"

Stefan leaned against his shovel. "I have no idea," he admitted truthfully. "It was one thing with Katherine…he just barely knew her. But, honestly, I don't know what he would've done. He watched you grow up."

Claire pursed her lips thinking about it. "Then again, he _was _the one that killed you and Damon, so…"

Stefan sighed. "Yeah. I'd say there's a pretty good chance you'd be in that tomb right now."

Claire let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "Your father's a pain, Stefan," she grumbled, and they resumed digging up the grave again. "Even after a hundred and seventy years."

She pulled out her shovel and thrust it into the dirt again, but this time, there was a thud sound. Elena peered over the grave with her flashlight, shining it down on both Claire and Stefan, who looked over the dirt and realized that they hit the coffin. Stefan immediately began to shift the dirt around with his shovel and, sure enough, a coffin door was evident. Both vampires threw their shovels on level ground and then bent down and to the side, using their strength to lift the coffin and pull it upright. Elena was gagging up on higher ground.

"Is that it?" she asked.

Stefan and Claire pulled open the grave and, sure enough, there was a book inside of it, right next to Giuseppe's skeletal body. A look of sadness crossed Stefan's eyes before he and Claire stood up in the grave, Elena bent down, and Stefan desperately ripped off the protective covering on the Grimoire and tossed it to the side. Sure enough, it was the book they were looking for. Emily's Grimoire.

A voice brought them all out of their increased intrigue, and the voice was one of which they were not happy to hear.

"Well, what do you know?" Elena, Stefan, and Claire all turned their heads and Elena stood up, raising her flashlight to come upon Damon's angered face. "This is an interesting turn of events," he spat.

Stefan climbed out of the grave and helped Claire, who brushed herself off while Stefan faced his brother head-on. "I can't let you bring her back," he said simply. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," agreed Damon, but his apology was for a different reason. "For thinking for even a _second _I could trust you."

This caused a spike in Stefan's anger. "Oh. You are not _capable _of trust. The fact that you're here means that you read the journal and you were planning on doing this yourself."

"Of course I was going to do it by myself, because the only one I _can _count on is _me_!" Damon shouted, causing Stefan to fall silent. "You made sure of that many years ago, Stefan." Deafening silence surrounded Giuseppe's grave, and Damon let his eyes wander towards Claire, who was just standing at the edge of the grave with no expression on her face.

"But you…" Damon's eyes were filled with betrayal and hurt, something she hadn't seen in a long time. He caught on his words. "You had me fooled," Damon admitted, nodding once. She felt herself grow confused and angry all at the same time. "I thought…for just a _second _that _maybe_, only _maybe_, we could finally put the past behind us once this was over."

Claire felt herself become suddenly ashamed. Damon's eyes were hot like fire, and they looked down upon her like they were reliving the past all over again. Like he'd just gotten his heart broken for the second time. But, she didn't let this bother her, because as a vampire, she needed to show him that she could stand up to his bullying. "You thought wrong," she said simply, trying not to let her voice break. "I can't let Katherine come back and destroy my life again."

"This isn't about _Katherine, _damn it!" Damon growled, his lips twitching with anger and hurt. She flinched in the slightest. "I thought I had a reason to trust you today. I _thought _that we could be friends again. But you _fool _people, Clarissa. You make them believe that you care when you don't." At the mention of this, she felt like she was about to crumble. She didn't _mean _to hurt Damon this way. She thought it would just be another thing to add to the list of things they'd done wrong to each other.

Stefan watched as his brother and his best friend were in the midst of an argument that he had never seen before—an argument that he didn't like. For a second, a split second, Stefan could see something in Damon's eyes. Something that he hadn't noticed before. Something that Stefan couldn't quite place a finger on quite yet. He didn't have a chance to when Damon turned to him.

"So what are you going to do now? Because if you try and destroy that"—Damon gestured to the Grimoire in his brother's hand—"I'll rip Elena's heart out without blinking."

"You won't kill her," Stefan retorted, shaking his head. But he hadn't thought of Damon's pride but only for his own, and Damon had something to prove. He flashed around and grabbed Elena by the neck, holding the human by her throat so that Elena gasped for air. There was nothing Stefan or Claire could do without Damon snapping Elena's neck in that very instant.

"I can do one better," Damon agreed, pulling up his sleeve and ripping into his wrist. Elena struggled against him, and then he pressed his blood to her mouth so it involuntarily flowed down her throat. "Give me the book, Stefan. Or I'm snapping her neck and you'll have a vampire girlfriend on your hands."

Stefan grew weak at this, and with a side glance to Claire, who could do nothing without Damon getting to Elena first, looked back at Damon with worried eyes. "Let her go first."

Damon dropped his hand from her mouth so that blood dripped down Elena's chin, but the sadistic vampire did not release his hold. "The book!" he snapped.

"I am not going to give this to you until she is standing next to me."

"The problem is, I no longer trust that you'll give it back!"

Stefan fell silent, and then he spoke clearly, "You just did the one thing that ensures that I will."

But Damon wouldn't give. He nodded his head for Stefan to return the book, and the younger brother stepped forward, the book outstretched in his hand. Slowly, he placed it down on the ground, and Damon released Elena slowly, pushing her over to Stefan. She was frightened beyond believe, and Stefan immediately grabbed Elena in his arms and flashed away. Claire was staring at Damon with hateful eyes, but he shamed away from her, walking over to grab the Grimoire.

"Was it worth it?" Damon peered up at her, and she just stared at him blankly. "I hope it was, Damon, because then ruining whatever bond you had with your brother again would be a complete waste."

She didn't say anything about herself. Damon could hate her all he wanted, it wouldn't change a thing. What she couldn't stand was Damon hurting Stefan over and over again, getting his brother's hopes up of actually being a family again. Stefan could tell Elena all he wanted about how Damon was a monster, but deep down, Stefan wanted his brother to be good, and Claire knew this. Damon knew it, too, he just refused to make it true. She didn't lecture him, she didn't hit him, she didn't say a single word past that.

Honestly, she hoped Damon got what he wanted. Because, without it, ruining everything would be for nothing.

* * *

Claire had gone back to the boarding house after leaving Damon at Giuseppe's grave. She realized all too quickly that the idea of friendship with Damon again as they'd talked about earlier was completely shot now. Not that it mattered to her, but she did wonder what it would've been like if her intentions had been pure. Honestly, though, what bothered her about this whole thing was that Damon gave her so much grief regarding her betrayal when Stefan had made an excellent point: Damon had come to Giuseppe's grave all alone, proving his own distrust towards them all. Damon Salvatore was such a hypocrite sometimes, it killed her.

Suddenly, there was a _beep _in her pocket as she poured herself a glass of bourbon in an empty household, seeing as Stefan was with Elena and Damon was off doing whatever the hell he wanted to do now that he was close to bringing Katherine back. After draining all the contents in her cup without stopping once, she slammed the glass back down on the counter and whipped out her phone, almost angrily. Claire was glad she'd set the fragile glass down when she realized what the beep was from.

Damon's text message was prominent on the screen of her cell phone.

_I know where it is. Meet me at my father's grave. _

He had sent the text message, she realized, to her and _only _her. Now was the time where she felt like a horrible person, despite the fact that she'd convinced herself she did this because Katherine could not be allowed to return to this world. She felt like complete and utter crap lying to Damon...betraying him. There was a time when she'd do anything for him.

The sound of a slammed door made her slip her phone back into her pocket and turn around to face Stefan, who bore a worried expression. He didn't even need to say the words for her to realize what was happening. Regardless, Stefan said them anyway.

"Elena's missing."

* * *

**So, I guess friendship is off the table for Damon and Claire; at least, for now it is. Anyways, hope you guys all enjoyed that chapter! I'm going to be kind of cycling through my updates now, so the last one updated will get updated next and blah, blah, blah, we all get the picture. But I'll update as soon as I get back around to this one. Review, please!**

_**Love, **_

_**BellaSalvatore1918**_

_**X**_


	6. Fool Me Once

**Hey, everyone! I'm so grateful for all the feedback last chapter. I'm happy you're all enjoying the story. Unfortunately, things are going to start getting _really_ complicated _real_ soon so stay with me. ****Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Review at the end if you can, please! Flashbacks to return next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :) **

* * *

**Fool Me Once**

Over the past several hours, Claire and Stefan searched high and low in the town of Mystic Falls, trying to find Elena. Presumably, Anna, the vampire from 1864 who wanted to get into the tomb as well as Damon, had taken Elena in her home while Stefan was getting aspirin. But no matter where they searched both vampires had come up with the same conclusion: they needed someone else's help. Unfortunately, the person they needed help from really didn't like them all that much.

"Anna took Elena," Stefan announced as he barged into the study with Claire on his heels. Damon was on his favorite chair, looking over his precious Grimoire.

"Yeah, I got that from your six _hundred _voicemails."

"Damon, all night long, every single street in town, we've been searching," the younger brother confessed frantically. Damon didn't bother looking up from his reading selection at the two people who had just betrayed him less than twelve hours ago. "What if your blood hasn't passed out of her system?"

"Well, then at least you know you'll see her again," Damon said vindictively, still keeping his eyes glued onto the Grimoire. Stefan sat down on the couch beside Damon and looked at him desperately.

"Please," he begged. "What do you know?"

Damon said nothing, and at this, the blonde vampire in the room sighed heavily. "Damon, come on, this is gone too far. You tracked Anna down to find the location of the Grimoire, which means you know where she's staying. Tell us where we can find her."

She didn't bother with a "please" like Stefan had asked for. Though she felt so guilty for her betrayal, she didn't want Damon to see past her rough exterior. He was being stubborn and immature, and he wasn't deserving of beggary. Not from her.

Damon looked up at her and shook his head. "Nope." His eyes drifted towards Stefan. "You two can go. Really." He shot a smile to his brother and his brother's best friend and then dropped it sourly.

Claire scoffed at the sad case of Damon Salvatore and just shook her head. "Come on, Stefan. Let's go. He's hopeless."

She turned to walk away, but Stefan's deep, heavy sigh stopped her from leaving entirely. "You know…" Stefan began, straightening beside his brother. "All I can remember is hating you. There might've been a time that was different, but your _choices _have erased anything good about you."

Damon looked up from his Grimoire now, Stefan's confession capturing his full attention. Claire wanted to advise her friend to quit while he was ahead, but she didn't stop him. Instead, she listened as Stefan continued on painfully.

"But see, I also know that you have just as much reason to hate me. This all began with me. Katherine got taken away from you because of me," Stefan admitted slowly, his eyes full of regret and sorrow. A pain flickered behind Damon's eyelids, and Stefan dropped his gaze. "And I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Damon chuckled softly with a forgiving smile. But he said no more, so Stefan moved on.

"So please," Stefan tried again, "just tell me what you know." The raven-haired vampire shifted in annoyance, and Stefan's voice turned completely as desperate as he was. "It's Elena, Damon. If you know something…tell me."

Claire wanted to stay silent, but she had a feeling that Damon was budging, just in the slightest. She stepped forward.

"Your problem is with us, Damon," she said softly, capturing his electric blue gaze. She tried not to raise her voice at him so that they could get what they wanted and be done with it. "Don't take this out on Elena. She could be in real danger with this." Her eyes locked with his, and a silent, unnoticed moment went between the two of them. After a moment of thought, Damon sighed, closed the Grimoire, and moved so that he was standing up. Stefan copied him, not to block his brother's way but to get to the same height.

"I mean this sincerely," Damon began, almost exhausted. His next words were slow and emotionless, despite the progress Claire and Stefan thought they were making. "I hope Elena dies."

Damon gave a slight pout, brushed past his brother, and without giving any unnecessary attention to the beautiful blonde in the room, left without anything else to say. If Claire thought he was worthy enough of a lecture, she would've gone after him, but instead, she shook her head at Stefan.

"We'll find her without him," she said, shrugging. "We have to." Stefan nodded, trying to accept his friend's words, but truth be told, Claire had no idea what promises she was making to him. "Try her again," Claire insisted, gesturing to Stefan's phone, and the vampire pulled his phone out and tried to call Elena again, hoping this time that she'd answer. He paced and paced, calling and calling, and, eventually, there was a sharp ringing sound, signaling an incoming call from Elena's cell phone.

"Elena," Stefan answered it immediately upon seeing the Caller ID. Claire straightened beside him, following the vampire as he came to a stop in his pacing. "Are you okay?"

"_She's fine," _said a different voice over the phone—certainly not Elena's voice. Anna's, of course. "_For now. Tell me you have the Grimoire and she'll stay fine." _

Stefan hesitated, but it was too late. His hesitation had given everything away, so he just said the one thing that he could. "I can get it."

"_Which means your brother has it," _Anna clarified for the both of them. _"And I have the witch. So one of you had better meet me in the very public town square in thirty minutes so we can safely discuss how fun it's going to be to work together." _

Once the call was ended, Claire's attention was diverted from the phone to the threshold of the study, where Damon was standing against it with a sadistic expression worn on his face.

"Go ahead," challenged the vampire as the two others turned around at him. "Grovel again. Oh, wait, no. I don't care," Damon said dully before straightening and walking out of the threshold.

With Damon's comment, it only made things worse, so a very angry Clarissa snarled and said to her best friend, "I'll be right back," before fleeing Stefan and following Damon out the threshold into the hallway.

"Don't bother," Damon sighed as he leisurely walked out of the study and down the hallway into the foyer. "Elena betrayed me just as much as you two did. Fact is, I don't care whether she lives or dies. Not my problem."

"Yeah, well _Stefan _is your problem," Claire retorted at him, walking as leisurely as he was. Damon responded just as uninterested and emotionless as before.

"Yes, Claire. He is my problem. A problem that I intend to make suffer in all ways I can. Just like I intend upon doing to you." The dark-haired vampire gave a careless shrug, but was pulled to the stop just as they reached the foyer and the threshold to the parlor.

Claire was in front of him now, closer to him than before. "Damon, I _know _that you sent me that text message when you found the location of the journal." The vampire gritted his teeth but said nothing in response to her accusation. "I get it now, okay? And it sucks, but you got what you wanted. Just get over it."

Damon's eyes were hard and cold, a sign of him not even budging on the matter. "No can do, sugar. Holding grudges is my strong suit." He whispered the last part vindictively, practically spitting in her face with spite. Claire wanted to try to talk to him more; she wanted to try and get him to understand that what he was doing was bulldozing everything in his life before Katherine returned. Instead, she saw no hope in the matter, and just scoffed viciously.

"Yeah, well, have fun holding grudges while you spend the rest of your eternity _alone _with no one who gives a damn about whether you live or die!" The female vampire snapped angrily, causing Damon to fall silent. But she didn't regret her words—not in that moment, anyway. "You know, maybe if you just stopped for one _second _to think of someone other than _yourself, _you would realize that Stefan's trying to make an effort here and I was, too! But I'm done trying to fix things with such a heartless _bastard." _Claire scoffed, angry at her own tone as much as she was at him. "Do whatever you want to do, Damon. Stefan and I are going to save Elena."

She didn't waste anytime jutting off to the right, grabbing her leather jacket that hung on the coat rack by the door, and stepping out into the daylight, where she was sure Stefan would follow her. Sure enough, Stefan exited the boarding house just as she was outside on the lawn, and he caught up to her.

"That…_might've _been a little harsh." Stefan tried to calm his friend down as they both walked across the Salvatore lawn.

Claire scoffed again. "Really? Because I think it wasn't enough!"

"Was it true?" Stefan asked, causing her to stop. "About him sending you that text message? He really did trust you?" She didn't respond for the first few moments, wondering whether or not she should lie to Stefan about the matter. But because he was oblivious to her extracurriculars, she decided that it wasn't worth the lie.

The vampire nodded. "Yeah. Damon texted me and asked me to meet him at Giuseppe's grave yesterday. I didn't get the text message until after everything was over, but he sent it while we were digging up the grave. That much I know."

Stefan sighed and rubbed his eyes, one of his idiosyncrasies that Claire had picked up on all the way back when they were children. "Ah…well, now everything just got more complicated."

The blonde just shook her head. "No. We need to stop thinking about crybaby Damon and start focusing on Elena. A plan, Stefan. We need a plan. Is there _any _way we can find Elena? Or even _Bonnie_?"

Stefan opened his mouth as if to say that there was nothing possible, but instead, he gasped. "Actually, I think there _is." _

After a visit with Sheila Bennett, Bonnie's grandmother, Stefan and Claire had learned the location of Elena and Bonnie. The location was given to them by Sheila, who had done a locator spell to find her daughter. Just as the thirty-minute deadline Anna gave hit, Stefan and Claire had found their way to the crappy motel, and the two vampires desperately searched for any noise as to where the two teenagers were being held. After a while of listening, they finally realized what room they were being held in, and Stefan left Claire to kick down the door.

Since the blinds were drawn and every crevice that could possible show any amount of sunlight had been covered, it wasn't a surprise when their captor, probably Anna's minion, had crumbled to the ground screaming out in pain. He found the first sign of coverage he could—in between the beds, of course. Stefan drew the shades back quickly so that more light streamed into the room.

"Stefan! Claire!" Elena exclaimed happily upon seeing her rescuers, and she immediately jumped off the bed.

"Follow Claire outside," Stefan told the two girls, and they immediately went with Claire, who was beckoning them out of the room. Leaving Stefan to handle the threats against Elena's captor—as any good boyfriend would do—Claire led Bonnie and Elena out into the sunlight where they would be safe against any vampire who didn't have a daylight ring under Anna's control.

"You two okay?" Claire asked as the she and the humans all slowed to a stop in front of the parking lot. Bonnie and Elena had to catch their breath, but they both nodded. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

Bonnie swallowed. "No. He was about to, but no." She gave a slight nod to the vampire, who gave the witch a nod back, and a second later, Stefan emerged from the motel room and Elena ran to him, practically jumping into his arms in security. After the commotion of the breakout died down, Stefan took Bonnie and Elena back to the Bennett house, where Sheila reluctantly let Claire inside.

After filling Elena in on what happened with Damon earlier, Elena, Claire, and Stefan all re-entered the Bennett household and Elena started the conversation as soon as she walked in.

"So what do we do now?" The teenager sighed.

"Well, for now, you need to stay inside," Stefan told all of the non-vampires—whether it was the Katherine look-alike, the novice witch, or the expired witch, it didn't matter. For them to be safe from Damon or any other vampire, they needed to stay inside the house where no vampires other than Claire and Stefan had been invited.

"A prisoner, in my own home?" Sheila scoffed. "I don't think so."

Claire shook her head. "We can't protect any of you if you leave the house. I _might _be strong enough to look after one of you if I'm not being fought, but—"

"We'll protect ourselves," the elder Bennett witch returned, her voice trenchant.

Elena surprised everyone in her next sentence, changing the topic completely. "We need to let him have Katherine back." She glanced up at Stefan and Claire. "He's not going to stop until he gets her. If we help him, maybe that ends it."

"No!" Bonnie protested softly. "He doesn't deserve to get what he wants."

"Maybe is a _really _big 'if' to be taking right now, Elena," Claire reasoned with the human, but Elena merely fought back defensively.

"What other choice do we have?" she told them all, exhausted. Everyone in the room realized the truth to her statement—if they didn't help Damon, he would kidnap Bonnie, do it all on his own, and let loose twenty-seven vampires.

"Witches being pulled down by vampire problems," Sheila expressed with distaste lining her words. "As much as we tried to do to stay out of it." Another silence filled the room before Sheila conceded. "I'll open the tomb. You get your brother's girl and destroy the rest with fire. Then this will all be over."

"We still have to get Damon to agree," Stefan protested.

"He already agreed once," Elena offered, shrugging as if it would be no big deal to earn his trust back. However, the teenager wasn't quite aware of how Damon was acting this morning, let alone the fact that Damon flat-out said he couldn't care less whether she lived or died. Stefan scoffed.

"Yeah, and then we double crossed him. Now, he's furious."

"He's hurt," Elena returned empathetically. "There's a difference." Her eyes drifted to the side to see Claire, who didn't even realize Elena had been staring at her. Stefan caught Elena's stare, and his eyes drifted to Claire in realization. A few seconds later, the adult vampire recognized that she was being looked at with prompting stares. Behind those stares hid a suggestion, one that Clarissa King wasn't quite fond of.

"You guys want me to talk to him, don't you?" She trailed off, and then began to laugh. "Ha! No. Yeah, that's not happening. Damon hates me right now, and I'm not too eager to jump on this 'joining forces with Damon' bandwagon. Besides, even if I _wanted _to apologize, he wouldn't take it!" She cut her gaze from Elena to Stefan. "You heard me this morning. I blew up in his face."

"So apologize for it," Elena suggested lightly. Claire frowned. "I'm sure he'll accept your apology if you really mean it."

"But I _don't _mean it," Claire complained, looking across the room and throwing her hands up. Elena, Stefan, Bonnie, and Sheila all said nothing, but their words were written all over their faces. "Why do _I _always have to be the one to talk to him? It always backfires. Damon and I are _enemies. _We hate each other, remember?" she reminded Elena and Stefan, mostly. The witches idly sat by and watched as the other half of their party argued.

"Come on, Claire," Stefan returned, crossing his arms. "You and I both know that once upon a time, you and Damon were once friends. Which means that _somewhere _deep, _deep _inside of you both, you have to at least...care." Claire gave a whimpering sigh as a response, but the agreement was written all over her face. Elena cut in.

"Just give it a try," she proposed in an encouraging voice. "If not, then that's it. There's nothing else we can do. After the way Damon reacted last night, I don't think there's anyone else he would listen to." Elena Gilbert was absolutely positive that Stefan was right, the two enemies cared for each other on some level. But she, on the other hand, had a feeling it was more than just a friendship. When she mentioned it to Stefan, though, he absolutely denied that fact, saying it was impossible. Elena wasn't so sure, especially from Claire's expression as she softened.

The female vampire bit the inside of her cheek, but everyone in the whole room was looking at her with hope. Finally, she realized that she had dug herself into a hole so deep a hundred years ago and now was the time she had to climb out of it.

"Fine," she snapped at them, moving around Stefan towards the exit of the Bennett house. "I'll meet you at the church ruins."

* * *

With one swift movement, Damon grabbed his leather jacket on the back of the desk chair in the study, getting ready to head out. It was when he sensed another person in the room that he turned around to find Claire standing at the doorway, her own leather jacket clashing with the pale brightness of her long hair that she kept down. He was surprised to see her, sure, but that could only mean one thing.

Damon grabbed the Grimoire on the table before him, almost protectively. "Back so soon?" She said nothing. "I take it you staged a jailbreak for Elena?"

"Yep," Claire admitted, standing at her place on the second tier of the study, staring at Damon, who was on the bottom level by the couch. "Though the credit mostly goes to Stefan. He knew how to find her."

"Oh, brother. Ever the white knight." Damon gave a sour, bitter smile, and Claire sighed.

"Elena convinced Bonnie and her grandmother to help you get Katherine back," she said immediately. Damon didn't waste any time in his wicked response. "Stefan and I are willing participants. For real this time."

"I doubt that."

"If you're looking for an apology, Damon, I strongly suggest you look elsewhere," Claire snapped, moving from the door over to the stairs so she could get closer to Damon. "Stefan and Elena thought it was best I apologize for betraying you, but I'm not going to do it. I'm not sorry for what I did."

She stopped at the top stair leading into the main room, and Damon just tilted his head at her. "Well, at least you're honest."

"I was protecting myself, Damon. And I was protecting Stefan. And, on some level, I was protecting _you_. From Katherine. You may love her, but we both know what a bitch she could've been. And not just to me." Damon stayed with a straight expression, but she was aware that he agreed.

Damon straightened and swallowed. "Why are you here, Claire?" he asked, his tone accusative. The vampire across from him just shielded her eyes for a moment as she answered him.

"Elena keeps saying there's something to be redeemed in you. And…I _think _I can see where she's coming from now."

"Really?" Damon questioned, straightening. "Because, as I recall, that's not how you saw it this morning."

"Well, if you asked me if you could be redeemed this morning, I would've laughed in your face and pushed you down the stairwell. You were being an asshole," she snapped, and Damon crossed his arms over his chest defensively. Regardless, Claire let out a deep breath and walked down the steps leading into the study, her shoulders rising and falling in a deep sigh. "_But, _I do have to say that I think that I overreacted a little." Again, she shielded her eyes, but he knew the words coming out of her mouth were hard. "What I said earlier was…harsh and nasty, and I'm _sorry_."

Damon pursed his lips. "Apology accepted."

Claire nodded. "So, please," she began, stepping forward. Now, her real intentions were coming out. "Let us help you with this. We're all on the same side now, Damon. We'll get Katherine back, just as long as everyone else in that tomb is destroyed."

"Not interested," Damon said blandly, turning away. Claire stopped him.

"Yes, you are! Because you wanted to work with us yesterday, and you even trusted me enough to tell me where to find you so we could dig up the Grimoire _together_!"

Damon turned around sharply by the lower-level exit. "Fool me once, shame on you," he whispered and then turned again, ready to bolt, but Claire stopped him.

"Hey!" she called out to him, causing Damon to stop. "You know, I asked you what the worst thing I did was, but you never asked me what the worst thing you did was!" Damon didn't even turn around, but he heard her words being spoken softly. "Ask me now. I'll tell you."

Damon thought about it for a moment, but then he spun around sharply and walked forward, setting the Grimoire down on the table for resting. "All right. Worst thing I ever did to you?"

"You fell in love with me," she said abruptly, causing him to stiffen. "You kissed me, Damon, and that terrified me to no end. I was frantic about dying, I was worried about the fact that we might've been _forced _into getting married—"

"Your excuses don't support anything!" Damon snapped angrily, making her look up at him. "I _told _you how I felt. I _told _you that I would be there for you. You _kicked _me out of your life, Claire!"

"Because I was scared, Damon!" Claire whispered irately, stepping forward. "Don't you realize that? How's a girl _supposed _to react when her mom tells her that her best friend's going to be her husband someday, huh?" She ground her teeth together, and the two of them stood in silence until she spoke again. "Then, you show up in Chicago after Stefan left and we...started _this_." Claire gestured between the two of them, sighing. "And it was good—no, it was great, actually, and as guilty as I feel going behind my best friend's back, I don't really…regret it. But the problem with _this _is that it'll end as soon as we get Katherine back."

Damon sighed. "Look, I get it. But I can't continue things with you _and _be with Katherine—"

"I know," she cut him off immediately, shaking her head. "Trust me, I get it. Which is why I want you to decide. Right now," Claire demanded, never tearing her gaze away from him. "And if you choose me, things can keep going on the way they've been going on and, one day, maybe we can _try _for something else. But if not, you take Katherine, you leave, and you let me go."

Damon took a step forward so that they were only a few feet apart. "And how is this supposed to get me to trust you?"

"Because, either way, Damon, I'll help you get Katherine back, if that's what you really want," she explained. "I never _actually _told you that I would before, and now that I have, I've given you my word that I will. I won't go back on it, no matter what you decide."

Damon stepped forward again, closing the long distance between them so that they were nearly a foot apart. She watched, practically holding her breath, as he took his hand and brushed off a stray strand of pale blonde hair with an apologetic smile on his face.

"There was I time when I'd do anything for you, you know," he said quietly. "Walk through water. Jump through flames." But Damon dropped his hand to his side, shaking his head. "But this has to stop. I...I choose Katherine." He cleared his throat and recoiled into his strong build, all while watching as she reacted to his words.

Claire nodded, swallowing. There was an acrid taste in her mouth that she didn't expect. She walked into the house knowing that she had to make Damon decide for himself, and yet...his rejection hurt her more than she thought it would. Instead, she brushed it off and made sure he didn't see her break a sweat about the issue. "I figured you would. I just thought I would give it a shot."

Damon and Claire stood just a foot away from each other, too close for comfort but not ready to part just yet. "I'm trusting you, Claire," Damon murmured. "Don't make me regret it."

They left, together, for the old church, but they found themselves among a group of rowdy teenagers with cheap, red plastic cups in their hands. Both over-age vampires looked around, feeling completely out of place, but luckily no one spotted them and they kept moving all the way to the church ruins, where the tomb would be opened shortly. Upon his entrance, Damon whistled.

"Brother. Witches. Elena," Damon greeted simply, immediately traveling down into the tomb, where everyone would eventually meet him inside. Stefan and Elena turned to Claire, who walked up to them with a forced smile.

"Everything okay?" Stefan asked her, confused. Claire nodded.

"Mmhmm. I apologized. It was hell. Whatever." The vampire shrugged. "Let's just get this over and done with. Everything set?"

"I guess so," Bonnie agreed in the background, and wasting no more time, everyone set off into the tomb, where the ritual would take place.

Bonnie and her grandmother grabbed the lighter and walked around to each torch, setting the tool aflame while commenting on each torch's representation. "Air. Earth. Fire," said Sheila.

"Water," Bonnie added, holding up a bottle of tap water.

"That's it, just water from the tap?" asked Elena by the entrance/exit of the tomb as she watched Sheila sprinkle the water on the ground, making the soil damp.

"As opposed to what?" Sheila prompted the teenager.

"I just figured maybe it would have to be blessed, or…mystical, or something," Elena confessed, and after a naïve smile from Sheila, the conversation stopped. Beside Elena, Damon pulled out a blood bag from inside his jacket, unraveling the tube.

"What's that?" Stefan asked, shining his flashlight on the object.

"It's for Katherine," Damon said lightly, and then he snuck a glance up at his brother. "Gotta have something to get her going. Unless your girl's offering a vein to tap." Stefan sighed heavily, and at the expression of distaste, Damon whispered, "Admit it. You can't wait to get rid of me."

Stefan chuckled to himself. "I can't wait to get rid of you," he admitted, but it was duller than Damon might've hoped for, despite Damon's triumphant hum. The two brothers stared at each other until the witches in the circle looked up at them.

"We're ready."

* * *

Bonnie and Shelia joined hands in the middle of the circle and began to chant the incantation over and over again in unison; ever so often making the torches' flames jump higher. Damon was anxiously waiting at the door of the tomb, but upon hearing the foreign words, looked back at his brother, who was standing next to Claire and Elena.

"What are they saying?" Damon asked.

"Sounds Latin," Stefan answered, but he didn't know for sure. Beside Claire, Elena shook her head.

"I don't think it's Latin," she protested. The blonde vampire beside the human teenager just shrugged.

"Well, how about we get Google Translate to figure it out? Not like we're in the middle of anything..." Claire muttered in a joking tone. Elena chuckled to herself and went back to watching Bonnie and her Grams chant the words over and over again in whatever language it was. Eventually, the flames that had jumped higher on occasion completely sparked, causing them to violently rise and for Elena to jump back and clutch Stefan, frightened.

"What's happening?" Elena asked aloud to anyone who would answer, but no one did. Her only answer was the sound of stone breaking—a _seal _breaking—and the witches turned their head towards Damon's direction and watched as the tomb door opened to let people inside.

"It worked," Bonnie breathed out, astounded at her own power. Sheila, however, wasn't surprised.

"Of course it worked," she told her granddaughter. Damon turned around at Stefan who was shining his light on the opening of the tomb.

"Don't you have some fires to build?" he prompted his brother, who turned back at Claire and Elena.

"I'm gonna go get the gasoline," Stefan informed them.

"I'll help," Claire offered, but Stefan shook his head.

"I've got it, Claire. It'll just take me a minute; I'll be right back. Don't go in without me." The blonde nodded, and without further hesitation, Stefan went off, climbing the ladder to higher ground so he could grab the gasoline to wipe all the vampires out. But once he was gone, Damon kept his eyes on the witches and directed a question.

"You ready?" he asked, his eyes flickering to Elena. The human widened her eyes, confused.

"What?"

"You think I'm going in there by myself so you can seal me in?" Damon growled, pulling Elena to his side. Claire stepped forward, but Damon maneuvered him and Elena so that she was out of Claire's reach.

"Don't take her in," Sheila snapped beside Bonnie inside the circle. "I'll bring the walls down," she warned.

"You'll bring the walls down if I don't. You think I trust you?"

"As much as I trust you."

"That's enough!" Claire snapped, her attention shifting over to Damon, who looked over at her. She took in a breath and gestured towards the witches. "Look, I _promise_ they won't do anything to keep you inside. Just let Elena go."

But, instead, Elena shook her head in Damon's grasp. "No, Claire. Look, he needs leverage. He needs to know that you won't shut the door when he gets inside," she reasoned, flickering her gaze to the witches. "I get it. I'll go." Claire shifted uncomfortably, but Elena shook her head. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

Damon released her from his unwilling hold, and she went with him willingly as he grabbed a torch that had been lit earlier and asked politely, "May I?"

Without waiting for a response, though, Damon turned and led the way into the tomb, Elena trailing behind him with a flashlight. As Claire waited for Stefan to come down, she paced in front of the tomb door, keeping an ear out for any kind of trouble. But the real trouble wasn't inside—it was outside.

Anna came down the stairs, first being recognized by Bonnie, who stopped her. "Hey! You're not going in there!" Anna looked back and forth between the witches and Claire, who had now turned her attention to Anna.

"Well, well, well," Claire said slowly, stepping forward. "If it isn't Miss Annabelle."

"Clarissa," Anna greeted coldly. "I guess it's no surprise you're helping Damon. It's a bit confusing why you're not in there, yourself, though."

Claire stepped forward. "Simple. It'll be easier not to kill Katherine once Damon has her. He won't let me touch her." Anna straightened and a confused emotion flickered across her features. "What?"

Anna studied the vampire before her, trying to decipher whether or not Claire knew the truth. After piecing everything together, Anna cleared her throat. "You mean…Damon never told you?"

"Told me what?" Claire asked, shrugging. With a sigh, she continued upon Anna's silence. "Look, you kidnapped my best friend's girl and her best friend this morning. Now you're here in my way. Needless to say, you're kind of getting on my last nerve. So if you don't come out and say it—"

"Christopher," Anna said abruptly, causing Claire to stop and immediately move her eyes to the dark-haired female vampire in front of her. "He's in there, Clarissa."

Claire was silent for a long time, but then she scoffed. "Yeah. Right. Anna, Christopher _died _back in 1864. You're not fooling anyone."

"It's true," Anna said quickly. "Katherine turned him into a vampire—I was there. She had this…elaborate scheme to make you suffer, but, somehow, he ended up with the rest of the vampires in the church. Damon was there, too."

All earlier violent thoughts escaped her. "Damon…_knew_?" Claire whispered, confused. Anna nodded slowly.

"He did. He was there when Christopher turned, just like I was," she agreed. "And if you let me, I can help you find him inside. I just need to find my mother first."

But, despite the truth that spilled from Anna's mouth, Claire couldn't help but be skeptical of it. "Why should I believe _anything _that comes out of your mouth, Anna?" she spat.

"You don't have to," Anna returned, shaking her head. "But I'm going inside, Clarissa. And even you can't stop me."

As much as Claire wanted to fight, she couldn't bring herself to. She'd been lost to absolutely everything—the man she'd thought had long since passed was now revealed to be alive, more or less, entrapped in a tomb just a few feet from her. She was skeptical beyond belief, but nevertheless, she knew there could be a possibility. Damon's words came back to her from the night at Elena's house—he said opening the tomb was for her benefit, too.

Nevertheless, Anna walked past Claire and went inside the tomb after a slight protest from Bonnie and an interjection from Shelia telling Bonnie to let it go. The world, as Clarissa King knew it, was spinning before her, and she didn't even listen to Bonnie and Shelia's protests as she turned around and entered the tomb to find Christopher Fell and bring him back.

The tomb was dark and eerie, filled with cobwebs and all kinds of bugs, but none of it bothered the rarely grossed out vampire. With the flashlight and her enhanced vision, Claire was able to make it through the tunnels of the tomb to search for Christopher with every vampire who passed. She hadn't run into Damon, Elena, or even Anna, but it didn't matter. She went down every corner that felt right to her, searching and looking for the right desiccated vampire, but she didn't find the one she was looking for. Suddenly, there was a scream—Elena's scream, she realized. It was when she was about to leave that she heard Stefan save her and Elena get to safety, and she relaxed and kept moving from vampire to vampire, trying to recognize a face in the darkness of the tomb.

"Claire!" someone shouted loudly, causing her to rise from a vampire she was surveying, who she'd thought, but had mistaken, for Christopher. As far as she could tell, he wasn't here. At least, not in that part of the tomb. Stefan emerged before she had the chance to continue moving inside of the tomb, immediately grabbing her arm upon his arrival. "Claire," he breathed frantically. She turned back and shook her head at him, puzzled at his worried expression.

"What is it, Stefan? What's going on?"

"The tomb," he rushed out. "It seals vampires in. Bonnie and Sheila are trying to get the seal down, but they won't be able to hold it long. We _have_ to get out of here."

"But, Stefan—"

"Claire, _please. _We have to find Damon, too. He doesn't know that vampires can't get out." Claire was silent, but Stefan egged her on. "Claire, we don't have enough time! Please, come with me. _Now_."

She could've pulled away from the grip on her arm, but instead, she let Stefan pull her with him through the twists and turns of the large tomb that ran underneath the old church ruins. There was no point to searching for Christopher anymore—Anna was lying, she should've noticed. They found Damon, pacing back and forth in a closed-off space with only a few vampires inside. But no one had time to look them over as Stefan and Claire raced up to him.

"Damon—"

"She's not here," Damon whispered, ignoring his brother's try. Nevertheless, the two vampires heard him loud and clear.

"What?" Stefan whispered.

"She's not _here_!" Damon shouted loudly, throwing the blood bag that he had against the wall of the tomb, letting it splash and drip down on the walls.

"Stefan, they can't hold it much longer!" A voice rung throughout the caves of the tomb, but Damon was too busy ranting and arguing with Stefan to notice it. Stefan was trying to get his brother to concede, but he wouldn't. After hearing Elena's cry, Claire quickly spun around to Damon and Stefan and pushed Stefan out of the way.

"Damon, you need to _listen _to me!" she snapped angrily, causing Damon to look over at her. "If we don't get out of here, all of this is for nothing. _Please_," Claire whispered desperately. Damon looked her over with eccentric eyes, and eventually, he nodded, and she sighed in relief.

Then, something caught her eye, making her stop in her steps to flee. She could see it, gleaming in the low candlelight of Damon's hand torch. But it was just for a small second that she saw the ring, and then in another second, it was gone, and someone was pulling her in another direction towards the exit. All three vampires emerged just as the tomb door shut behind them, sealing everyone else inside that tomb to the rest of eternity as they were before.

After all the commotion ended, Stefan and Elena went on higher ground with Damon and Claire trailing behind them. Elena and Stefan immediately rushed up to Jeremy who was knocked out cold on the ground, but was still conscious and alive. Stefan assured his girlfriend that her brother would be okay, but he could see Damon stumble out onto the ground, completely lost and broken. Claire was behind him, a little ways away, and she, too, looked broken and lost.

The blonde vampire stepped forward, towards Damon by the very second. The image of a silver wedding ring that she had picked out herself was branded into her memory in the small, glowing light of the torch, and she stumbled over to Damon, her expression emotionless.

"It was him, wasn't it?" she whispered softly to Damon, realizing that raising her voice at a time like this would do neither of them any good. "It was Christopher."

Damon stood in his place, and she expected him to lie to her. Instead, he nodded once, not needing to say anything else to go with the gesture of agreement. Her eyes filled with tears, but she kept them back, licking her lips to try and refrain from breaking down.

He didn't need to say anything to her, and he didn't feel like it, either. Neither one of them said anything, in fact, until Claire nodded and shielded her eyes from him. She didn't step forward; she didn't move, in fact. Instead, she just hung her head.

"I'm sorry that Katherine wasn't there, Damon," she said, taking Damon completely by surprise. He didn't show it, but he watched as she just shook her head once and turned, abruptly fleeing the scene, unwilling to talk to anyone—not even her best friend, who watched from afar and put the pieces together.

* * *

Claire found herself back at the boarding house for some reason—sitting on the couch properly with a glass of bourbon swishing back and forth with the motion of her hand. Everything, as of the moment, seemed absolutely destroyed. And, as much as she felt sorry for the vampire in the next room over, she couldn't face him. As it seemed, he didn't want to face her, either—at least, not in his darkest hour. However, contrary to what normal people might do, Claire didn't shed a single tear. She just sat there, staring at the floor with absolutely nothing to say.

Stefan walked into the parlor, his hands in his pockets, and he greeted her in a small, soft voice. "Hey."

She didn't move her eyes up to meet his as Stefan sat down beside her, just waiting for her to be ready to speak. A minute passed, but she finally opened her mouth.

"A hundred and forty years," Claire whispered, her voice completely bland. "A hundred and forty years and I didn't realize that he was entrapped in a tomb cursed by Emily Bennett. I didn't even…know he was a vampire. Everyone said he was killed in the battle."

Stefan gave a heartbreaking expression. "That's why you went in there, wasn't it? To find him?" Claire nodded. "Did you?" She nodded again. "It was right before we went out, wasn't it?" Again, another silent nod. "God, Claire, I'm…I'm _so _sorry."

A dark, heavy silence pierced them both until Claire brought the bourbon glass up to her lips and drank the burning alcohol, claiming it with a fiery tsk and returning the glass back to her lap after she was finished. Stefan watched as she sat, completely broken. _  
_

"I left my husband to rot in a tomb for the rest of eternity, Stefan." Finally, she turned her head to meet Stefan's green eyes that pined for her happiness. Instead, all he saw was emptiness. "How am I supposed to live with myself for what I've done?"

"You didn't have a choice, Claire," Stefan pushed, scooting closer to her. "If you had stayed in there any longer to get him, you would be right where he was. You and I barely made it out in time." He put an arm around her shoulder, and she didn't object. Instead, she bowed her head and water pricked at her eyes. "You had no other choice. You can't take this out on yourself."

She didn't say anything after that, and Stefan didn't expect her to. He held her while she cried, something that he hated seeing from his friend. He hardly ever saw her cry, but he knew it was possible. It was only that lately, she had been happy to some extent. However, all of that was gone now, and he just tried to comfort her in the best way that a friend could. But what could a friend really say to make something like that better? She was absolutely right; her husband was rotting underneath of old church ruins and there was nothing they could do about that. Getting in the tomb was a one-time deal.

All Stefan could do was hold her until she decided that she wanted to be alone, to which he obliged and soon after went to Damon.

* * *

Fell's Church, in spite of recent events, was silent, dark, and absolutely untouchable. Though the Duke Party had ended, there were a few wandering strays here and there, but they didn't go out near the ruins. But that didn't exactly mean there wasn't any life there at all, of course, because underneath the surface, a tomb full of bloodthirsty and desiccated vampires existed. Within that tomb, of course, happened to be a cove where a dim fire flickered across the dead, yet _not _dead, vampires' faces, and beside the fire was a man. The man_—_really, the _vampire—_was dressed in a once proper, dusty, and tattered suit, slumped against the wall.

At his hand happened to be the remains of a bag—a blood bag, drained of most human blood. The vampires had all witnessed the invasion of other vampires upon their resting place, and though they had begged to be taken out with one, they didn't get their wish. They'd all heard the seal of the tomb again, but not all of them had the strength and the means to grip onto the blood bag at this male vampire's mercy.

The man with the silver wedding ring on his left ring finger gripped the blood bag tight, brought it up to his mouth, and had just enough to gather enough strength to stand. It was a step-by-step process, first crawling and gathering up all scraps of blood, then standing, and then finally licking off the remainder of the blood on the wall so that he could walk. It took long enough, but the vampire was able to wipe clean all evidence of blood and walk past all the rotting vampires to the entrance of his entrapment. A surge of adrenaline to get out of the tomb overwhelmed him, and the strong, yet still weak, vampire broke the seal on the door, moving it to the side enough so that he could get through. Again, it took long enough, but after a while, the man was able to get through the small crack in the door and step out, the moonlight hitting his face.

Christopher Fell stood at the bottom of the tomb; his face covered in blood, looking up at the night sky, and only one thought crossed his mind at the time. The reason he was able to muster enough strength—enough motivation—to get out of the tomb in the first place.

_Clarissa King._

* * *

**What'd I tell you? Complicated, right? So, what I wanted to do was make sure that Claire didn't punch or kick or scream at Damon so soon after he realized Katherine was out of the tomb...she's not a complete bitch. But in 1x15, she won't really be all warm and fuzzy to Damon like Elena at least attempts to be, feeling sorry for him. After all, if you were in her situation, you wouldn't be too happy with someone keeping a secret like that, either, would you?**

**So anyways, that's it for the chapter. I'll update as soon as I can. Review, please!**

_**Love,**_

_**BellaSalvatore1918**_

_**X**_


	7. A Few Good Men

**Hey, everyone. I totally lied. There aren't any flashbacks in this chapter. I decided against putting flashbacks because the chapter was long enough as it was without them. But I'm pretty sure that the next one _will _have flashbacks...most likely of Claire and Christopher's wedding. Anyways, sorry for the disruption in my updating schedule too. I just sat down to write some of this chapter and it all kind of came out at once. Hope you enjoy! Review at the end if you can please.**

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)**

* * *

**A Few Good Men**

The morning sun was cool on the backpacker as he trekked up the hill in the woods, listening to the sound of the colorful autumn leaves crunch softly at his feet. The backpacker stopped in his steps to look around and soak in the beauty of the nature around him—to listen to the birds chirp and the wind sway the trees. In addition to those sounds, though, there was a crunching sound much like he had made when he walked, which could only mean one thing.

The backpacker jumped upon turning around and finding that there was another man behind him, standing idly by a branch. The backpacker let out a breath realizing that it was just a man, more or less.

"You scared me," the backpacker explained.

Christopher Fell stepped forward and found words in his dry throat. "Do you know what day it is?" he asked.

The backpacker gave a look of confusion and of an obvious nature. "It's Saturday."

_Saturday_, the vampire repeated in his head. "And what…year?"

Time was nothing when he was trapped in a cave full of vampires. Until he'd had the blood on the wall of the tomb, he had been practically dead.

The backpacker looked like he pitied Christopher. "It's 2010." Christopher's eyes dropped. _2010, _his mind repeated. More than a century since 1865, the last year he could name. The backpacker then questioned, "You okay?"

Christopher nodded. "Thank you." But he _wasn't _okay. He'd spent a hundred years underneath the ground. God knows what'd happened to his wife after he'd been trapped. She was a vampire; that much he was aware of. But what if she had gotten killed after he'd been trapped? All possibilities raced through Christopher's mind—negative possibilities.

"Wait!" the backpacker stopped Christopher as he saw the man was beginning to leave. "What's your name?"

"Christopher, sir."

"How did you get out here?" The backpacker took a step forward. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Christopher looked down at his clothes, staring at the tattered, dusty mess. If the year was 2010, he would be branded suspicious the second he stepped foot into civilization, which was what he needed to do. Christopher's blue eyes looked up at the backpacker, who waited for his answer. Instead, Christopher answered with another question.

"Are you acquainted with a girl named Clarissa?" Christopher asked abruptly, taking the backpacker by surprise. "Clarissa King?"

"Clarissa King?" the backpacker repeated, shaking his head. "Uh, no. I don't know a Clarissa King. Why?"

Christopher realized that this man was a dead end, and if he was to find his long-lost wife, he couldn't do it looking the way he did. "You seem like a kind person," he whispered. "I'm very sorry."

The backpacker shrugged. "Sorry for what?"

But there were no more questions being asked. Christopher lunged forward, his fangs drawn, and he ripped into the backpacker's neck, causing the man to scream. Since they were out in the middle of nowhere, though, no one could hear him. The screams lasted for only a moment before the backpacker's dead body dropped to the ground and Christopher stepped back, savoring the taste of sweet blood.

The sight of the sun startled Christopher, and he squinted at its brightness. Putting the dead body on hold for just a moment, he stumbled back and raised his hand to block the sun from his eyes. As he did so, something gleamed on his hand, catching Christopher's attention. The startled vampire suddenly forgot all about the blinding sun and merely looked down at his pale hand to find his wedding ring was the cause of the gleam. But what he noticed when he brought his hand up to his face was that there was something inside of the band. Something he'd never noticed before.

There were blue gemstones—tiny ones—embedded in the band around his finger. Christopher ran his right hand's long fingers over the ring, feeling the bumps where the gemstones had been placed. But he was _sure _that his wedding band had been embedded with the smallest diamonds, not blue gemstones. Someone, he realized, had messed with his wedding band long before he'd been trapped under the tomb.

The real question was: _why_?

Christopher began to take the ring off, twisting it off of his swollen finger so that he could examine it closer. He took a look at the gleaming gemstones clashing with the silver, and a feeling of conflict crashed over him. He needed to find Clarissa as soon as he could. He needed to know if she was still alive, after all these years.

He braced himself to put the ring back on, but instead, the ring slipped out of his grasp and fell to the floor. Christopher bent down to pick it up, but he soon became distracted. The sun was now _burning _his skin, causing him to cry out in pain and his skin to start growing red and irritated. He was literally being _fried_ due to the sunlight, but it didn't take a scientist to realize that the ring he had dropped was the reason for this change. Desperately, Christopher clawed at the soiled ground and clutched the ring in his hand along with a fistful of dirt. Instantly, the burning sensation on his skin ceased, and he was safe from the wicked sunlight.

Letting the soil sift through his hand, Christopher looked at the ring in amazement. The _ring, _it protected him from the sun. He was confused beyond doubt, but that didn't stop him from slipping his wedding band onto his ring finger again. He then looked down at the dead backpacker and eyed the backpacker's clothes. What a fashion change the modern world had gone through, he recognized.

After stripping the corpse of its clothes, Christopher left his own rags by the corpse's side and dressed again. The clothes fit, much to his relief, but he was more than uncomfortable in them. Suddenly, there was a sharp ring that sounded loud in his ear. Christopher desperately looked around for the source of the ringing, but he found it was closer to his right ear. He then realized that there was something in the breast pocket of the jacket the backpacker was wearing, and he pulled out whatever it was inside of the pocket. It was a cell phone, not that he knew that. It was merely something foreign to him…something _strange. _So he ditched the cell phone with a confounded expression and backed away, turning to find any source of civilization he could.

* * *

Claire slammed the human against the sidewall of the girl's bathroom stall as she thrust them both into the Grill's bathroom and locked the door. As soon as all precautions had been taken, she turned her attention back to the male human and attacked his lips with absolutely no remorse at all. A sharp pain lined her stomach, but she didn't listen to it. Instead, she clutched the human closer by the collar and continued to kiss him ruthlessly.

When Claire let the man's mouth go so she could trail her lips teasingly across the human's throat, the male shuddered. "And I didn't even have to buy you a drink first."

"Mm," the vampire murmured against the warm flesh of the male human—she was quite certain his name was Avery, but she wasn't absolutely positive. Honestly, it didn't really matter to her. "I'm a very easy girl."

The human nervously laughed. "Yeah. You are."

He forced her head up and kissed her again, his tongue plunging into her mouth and beginning a war that she tried hard not to gain control of. Despite the fact that they were in a girl's bathroom, Avery turned her and urged her forward, his hands shamelessly grabbing her ass in the process. The vampire, all too used to human tricks, made it easy on the both of them and broke their kiss for just a moment so she could get on top of the bathroom counter and fit the human in between her legs so they could resume where they left off. Her legs wound around the human's waist, but it was nothing like a hot and heavy make-out session with a vampire. The human, though enjoyable, was falling behind, so Claire had to do something about it. She tightened her legs and grabbed a fistful of his short, brunette hair, pulling him away from her for a minute.

Avery chuckled. "You like to play rough, don't you?"

Claire gave a wolfish grin. "Oh, you have _no _idea." Her eyes concentrated on his and she compelled, "Don't fight me. Don't scream. Trust me, we'll both enjoy this."

Avery complied with her demands, never once fighting her as she pulled his lips back to hers and violently kissed the human before her lips moved down to the warm flesh of the man's neck. Without further delay and with help of her compulsion, Claire pierced her fangs into Avery's neck and drank deeply, the thick ropes of sweet, human blood from the vein filling her. She pulled away after a few seconds, sighing in bliss at the way it felt to be drinking from the vein. Blood bags sufficed, but she liked it better when a man was at her mercy.

Just when she was about to seal the deal between her and Avery, there was a knock on the door. Claire ignored it and brought Avery's lips to hers again, kissing him deeper this time to insinuate her intention. His hands traced the curves of her hips with need, but it didn't get much further than that when Claire heard the voice on the other side of the door.

"Claire! It's Elena! I know you're in there. Open up!"

The blonde-haired vampire sighed heavily and pushed Avery away from her before hopping down from the bathroom counter. She wiped her lips free of any excessive blood and turned around to Avery.

"Forget this happened," she compelled, her voice nothing but a grumble, and then she walked over to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Elena was on the outside of the door, watching as the dazed human walked out of the bathroom and out to the rest of the customers in the restaurant. Claire leaned against the Grill's bathroom door. "Yes, Elena?"

"Were you just…?" Elena trailed off. Claire nodded. "Sorry. I thought I saw you go in alone…"

"Don't worry about it. It's kind of a good thing that you stopped me. That guy grabs ass like it's money." Claire made a face and brushed off the back of her jeans before sighing and looking up at her. "But obviously you had a reason for interrupting, so let's hear it."

"I need your help," Elena said, her voice soft and strong. "I promised Stefan I would do this with him, but…I kind of just felt like I needed to do it now and Stefan's handling Damon. I-I don't really want to do this alone."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "What do you need to do?"

Elena led Claire outside to her car and explained that Jenna had found her birth mother and her birth mother's friend. Elena had her birth mother's friend, Trudie Peterson's, address, and she wanted to visit. There was also the slight little detail that Alaric Saltzman, the high school History teacher with a dirty little vampire-hunting secret, was married to an Isobel, and she had died. Elena was worried that her Isobel was the same Isobel as Alaric's, and she didn't want to handle that. Nevertheless, she drove to the address Jenna had given her with Claire in the passenger seat.

"So..." Elena began, trying to beat around the bush. "Are you…okay?"

Claire sighed heavily. "Well…let's see. I partook in a scheme to get the person I hate more than anyone else in the world out of a tomb she wasn't even in, and in the process, I found out that my dead husband is _actually_ a vampire sealed in said tomb and then I left him there to spend the rest of his eternal days starving." The vampire looked over at the human. "I don't know about you, but I'm just _peachy_."

"You can't blame yourself," Elena tried, speeding past a green light. "There was no way you could've gotten him _and _yourself out of there."

"Elena, I'm fine," Claire told her, exasperated. "Really. I understand that it wasn't my fault, I just…wish I could've _done_ something."

Elena turned her head for just a second to eye the blonde vampire. "If you were really fine, you wouldn't have been hooking up with my gym teacher in the bathroom."

Claire widened her eyes. "That was your _gym teacher_?" Elena nodded. A sigh escaped the vampire's lips. "Well, that explains the ass-grabbing. Oh, well. Look, it's complicated, okay? I just learned that I've been committing adultery for around…oh, a hundred and fifty years. The way I see it, I'm already going to hell. Might as well embrace it."

Elena sighed. "Well, I imagine Damon's probably doing the same thing."

Claire shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I haven't talked to him since the night we opened the tomb." Elena opened her mouth, but as she was determined to brush it off, Claire pointed outside her window to the blue house just up the road that matched their target address. "There's the house," she announced.

Elena pulled up to the curb, double-checked the address, and the two slowly made their way onto the porch. Claire was only there for moral support, so when Elena hesitated, Claire just crossed her arms and tilted her head at the door. Upon seeing the gestures that indirectly spelled out the words "stop being a coward" to her, the human knocked on the door with her back stiff. When no one answered after the first two seconds, Elena turned, but she ran straight into Claire, who turned the human around to watch as the door opened. A petite blonde answered the door with a small smile, staring at the two girls on her doorstep.

"Trudie?" Elena asked cautiously, smiling in the slightest. "T-Trudie Peterson?"

"Yes," said the homeowner.

"Um, my name is Elena Gilbert. This is my friend, Claire King. I…wanted to talk to you about Isobel Flemming," she explained, her voice slightly unstable. Trudie just smiled.

"Well, I haven't heard that name in years." Elena nodded slowly. "How do you know her?"

"I think that—um…" Elena brushed a strand of hair out of her face and nervously tried to explain her reasoning for showing up. "Well…" She paused and looked over at Claire, who just gave her an encouraging look. The brunette sighed heavily. "Do you know if she had a baby that she gave up for adoption?" Elena forced out to Trudie.

Upon hearing the question, the blonde human straightened and gasped. "Oh, my God. You're her daughter." Elena stiffened, but Trudie just smiled wide and laughed. "I was just gonna make some tea, would you like some?"

"Sure," Elena agreed.

"Uh…the kitchen's this way." Trudie stepped aside in the threshold for Elena to step through, but her intentions were clear. She didn't invite either Elena or Claire inside, which was heavily suspicious. Nevertheless, before it could become an issue, Claire heard her phone begin to ring in her pocket.

"Claire," Elena started, but the blonde just looked at the screen on her phone. It was Stefan.

Claire sighed and looked up at Elena and Trudie. "Uh…you know what, I've got to take this." She looked over at Elena. "I'll wait for you outside, okay?"

Elena nodded once, confused but nevertheless going with it, and she stepped through the threshold without a problem. Claire immediately answered the phone so that it wasn't sent to voicemail, and while Trudie closed the door, she continued down the porch steps.

"Stefan," Claire said into the phone. "What's up?"

"_Hey. Where are you?" _

"I'm, uh…I'm out with Elena," Claire confessed, walking over to Elena's car. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"_Well, it's kind of a long story." _Stefan paused. _"I was going to tell you earlier, but you didn't come home last night. Are you sure that you're…" _

Claire slipped her free hand into her back pocket and scoffed while she paced on the sidewalk. "There's no need to worry about me, Stefan. I'm just dealing. I'm sorry I haven't been so…approachable lately."

"_You? Unapproachable? With all the men floating in and out of your room late at night? Not at all…" _

A bitter chuckle escaped Claire's lips. "Keep making jokes, Stefan. I happen to remember a solid decade where there were plenty of women floating in and out of your room."

"_Let's not relive those days. I just want to make sure you're doing okay." _A silence passed before he began again. _"Wait a second, you said you were with Elena? Is there something wrong?" _

Claire shook her head, despite the fact that Stefan couldn't see. She turned in her pacing. "No. Nothing's wrong. Elena just needed my help with something, that's all. Moral support."

Stefan was silent. _"She went to see Trudie, didn't she?" _

Claire let out a caught groan. "I _know _she promised you she'd go with you, but you were busy and I—"

"_No, no. You're fine. I'm just worried about her with all this birth mother stuff going around. Not to mention what might've actually happened to Isobel." _At this, Claire raised an eyebrow.

"What actually happened to Isobel?"

"_That would be something you would know if you came home last night, but I…I think I should wait to tell you in person. I have to tell Elena, too."_

Claire frowned. "You know how much I hate Shady Stefan. Spill it."

"_I will," _Stefan promised. _"Once you come home, okay? Now I've got to go. I'll see you later, Claire." _

"Stef—" But that was all she managed to get out before Stefan hung up on her and the line went dead. She groaned frustratedly to herself, but realized there was no point in calling him back. Instead, she waited by the edge of Elena's car for the teenager to come out of the house. A few minutes after her phone call with Stefan had ended, Elena came out of the house, practically running. She kept looking behind her in concern, and when she finally reached Claire, the vampire expressed her worry. "What is it?"

"I think Trudie knows about vampires," Elena confessed.

Claire scoffed. "Uh…_yeah. _She didn't invite us in. That was sign number one."

"Yeah, and then she gave me this tea and…I _think _it was laced with vervain. No, actually, I…I _know _it was laced with vervain. What is this supposed to mean, Claire?"

The vampire shrugged. "I…I don't know." Maybe it had something to do with what Stefan needed to tell her. "Let's just get back, okay?"

Elena nodded and walked around the car to the driver's side while Claire held her door open. Before the vampire could get into the car, though, she sensed someone's presence other than her own. Turning her head, she realized that she was right when she caught the gaze of a mysterious man in the middle of the road, staring at them. Elena turned her head, too, upon seeing Claire's distracted face, but as soon as she did, the vampire snapped out of it.

"Come on, Elena," Claire murmured, getting into the passenger side of Elena's car, and Elena hurriedly got into the driver's seat and made off without a hitch.

* * *

Christopher wondered the town square, watching as normal, modern people walked by in the town that he felt was foreign to him. He knew it was Mystic Falls by all the signs, but he didn't _feel _like it was his home. There were buildings and strange vehicles and things he never knew could exist. On top of that, there was the fact that he had only been a vampire for around a day and a half before he was sent to burn in the church with the rest of them, so he was ravenous. He could hear things from a mile away, he could see things sharper than the normal eye, and he had a burning desire in his throat for what he'd tasted from the backpacker—_blood._

There were so many things happening around him. Girls talking on these gadgets he was unaware of, kids roaming around carelessly in the middle of the town square, couples holding hands, business partners conversing. It was all quite overwhelming and uncomfortable for the vampire.

Just when he was about to combust from all of the new sights around him, he saw one that was familiar. He'd wished, he'd _hoped_, the first familiar person he saw was his wife, but instead, he saw two vampires from the tomb sitting on a park bench. He knew the two vampires by name—Harper and Bethanne. So, it wasn't just him who'd gotten out of the tomb? Christopher wasn't aware of how that made himself feel—relieved or terrified—but nevertheless, he turned to find someone he wasn't locked away with for the last century. It wasn't just a wish to find Clarissa now; it was a _need. _He needed answers, and he knew the only way he'd get them was from Clarissa.

* * *

Stefan's room was dead silent as Claire walked into her best friend's room, calling out his name with a sigh.

"Stefan?" She turned her head around the room, exhausted, and then she heard the melodic voice of a dark-haired vampire that _certainly _wasn't Stefan.

"Better. _Me_."

Claire whipped around to find Damon walking out of Stefan's bathroom, his sculpted chest perfectly visible to her. His pants rode low on his waist and his hair was a complete ruffled mess on his head; it resembled the way he looked after Claire, or any other woman, really, raked her fingers through it. Damon dragged himself out of the bathroom, a drunken smile over his lips.

"Damon," Claire spoke, her voice cold. "You look—"

"Dashing? Gorgeous? _Irresistible_?" Damon filled in for her, walking forward so that he was just merely inches from her face. He leaned in on the last word, but she leaned back without so much as a thought.

"Wasted," she finished dully. Damon just rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"No reason why."

"Okay, then." Claire let out a deep sigh and just gave him a reserved smile. "I'm just going to—" She moved back to leave, but Damon spoke before she was able to put her heel onto the ground.

"Do you know I'm one of Mystic Falls' most eligible bachelors?" Damon asked her proudly, giving her a pout and posing "seductively" for her. Claire raised an eyebrow.

"Do they also know that you slaughtered half the town when you came here? Because they should probably reconsider." Damon shrugged again and turned around, walking over to Stefan's full-length mirror by the bed. Claire watched as Damon grabbed the shirt he laid out and fit it over his strong build. She wanted to walk away, but it was too amusing to watch as Damon miserably failed at buttoning the shirt. He turned around, helpless.

"Help a guy out, would you? Can't…get this."

Claire dropped her arms from a crossed position and exasperatedly walked over to him. She knew the game he was trying to play, and she was quite disappointed in herself for playing along. Nevertheless, she spun them both around so that she was facing Damon and he was watching her as her fingers began to lightly brush over the buttons. Neither one of them said a word until Damon broke the ice.

"You've been avoiding me," Damon whispered, leaning closer. Claire just moved to another button. "I take it you're angry?"

"Angry?" Claire repeated, her shoulder rising and falling smoothly. "Now why would I be angry? You lied to me for an entire _century _Damon. And you even tricked me into sleeping with you! No, if anything, I'm _impressed_." But her words dripped with sarcasm and bitterness.

Damon held up a finger and tsked. "Now, now. I never _tricked_ you into sleeping with me."

Claire scoffed venomously. "No, you just didn't tell me that my husband was rotting underneath Fell's Church while we were rolling around in your sheets." Her eyes drifted up to his and her hands stilled on a button. "Damon, that's the very _definition_ of a trick."

"Would you _really _have never slept with me even if I told you Christopher was in that tomb?" Damon practically laughed, but Claire's face didn't change. "Come on, Claire. We both know he was never what you wanted."

Their eyes locked for the faintest moment, but then Claire shook her head. "You're wrong," she said simply.

Damon nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm wrong. That's why you pick a different guy to have sex with every night."

"That's none of your business," Claire muttered as she resumed buttoning his shirt up.

"We both know that it is my business," Damon whispered, but his voice was loud to her considering he was just by her ear. "Just say the word, Claire, and we're back to what we normally do. I can make you forget _all_ about him."

"Just like you want to forget all about Katherine?" Claire shot, leaning back. Damon sighed. "I'm not going to be your pick-me-up, Damon. Not anymore. We're done."

Damon hummed. "You're always sexy when you're angry."

"And you're always unattractive when you're day drunk."

A laugh escaped Damon's intoxicated lips. "You always say this has to stop, but it never does." Only, deep down, he knew that this time was real. He just didn't want to admit it.

She looked up at him, stilling her fingers on her third button, and her gaze caught his. But she was far from flattered or turned on, she was furious. He was taunting her about giving it another go-around when he damn well knew that he had hid the fact that she wasn't a widow, she was still a wife. And he didn't even have enough courage to tell her when the tomb was open. She couldn't help but wonder what she would've done if Anna never told her about Christopher being in there. Despite his rejection, Claire knew that there was a chance she would've forgiven him if she hadn't realized he'd been lying.

But there wasn't a chance. Not anymore.

"Yeah, well, this time I mean it," Claire said sternly and brushed past Damon without caring that she had only gotten through three buttons. Before she could get five steps towards the door, Stefan and Elena approached the threshold. Immediately, Claire sighed, relieved. "There you are, Stefan."

"Hey," Stefan returned, giving Claire a smile as he and Elena walked into the room together. Claire opened her mouth to respond, but instead, Damon groaned behind her.

"_Ugh. _I need a bigger jacket." As fast as Damon had put Stefan's jacket on, he took it off with distaste. "Wow. You know, an occasional sorority girl might, um, you know…help fill you out a little bit," Damon suggested, gesturing to his chest.

Stefan just gave his brother a tight smile and Damon walked away, continuing to button up his shirt.

"He's perfectly fine, isn't he?" Elena asked in disbelief as she stared after Damon.

"He's Damon," Stefan retorted, turning to his girlfriend with a shrug. Claire scoffed at the sight of Damon's blatant theatrics of helplessness against her, which only made her more furious towards his cause.

"I think this heartache will be _wonderful_ for him, you know? Maybe he'll be so sad for the rest of his life he'll never _ever _be happy again," the vampire spat.

Stefan sighed. "Oh, I did _not _miss this," he muttered. Claire's gaze cut to him, and seeing his expression, she sighed heavily.

"I…I wish I could say I'm sorry for saying that about him, but really, I'm not. I'm just sorry that you have to be in the middle of it." Her eyes drifted from Stefan to Elena, and a light bulb immediately went off in her head. "Oh! I almost forgot. You needed to tell me something, didn't you, Stefan? Both me and Elena?"

"He…already told me," Elena confessed. "But, I'll go outside and get the car ready so you two can talk."

Elena left after her announcement, and Claire stared after her. "Are we going somewhere?" she asked, but after a few moments, she realized. "Ah. The fundraiser. I was going to go alone, but…hey, why not?" Claire exhaled. "So, what is it that you needed to tell me?"

"Did Elena tell you about Isobel?" Stefan began, shifting and putting his hands in his pockets. Claire nodded. "Well, it turns out that Isobel actually _is _Alaric's wife, the one who taught him all he knows about vampire."

"Wait, wasn't she killed by a vampire?" Claire recalled, raising her eyebrows. Stefan just nodded. "Well, do you know who it was?"

Stefan took a large inhale. "Alaric thinks it was Damon."

Claire crossed her arms over her chest and widened her eyes. "_Damon _was the one who killed Elena's birth mother?" Stefan barely gave another nod, but he didn't have to agree with her. Claire gritted her teeth. "Oh, that _sick _son of a bitch—!"

"Claire," Stefan stopped her, gripping her arms to keep her from getting out of his room. "Please don't say anything. Not yet. There's so much going on right now, I…I don't think he'll be able to take it if we confront him and it turns out not to be true."

"Why are you walking on eggshells with him, Stefan?" Claire snapped, forcing Stefan's hands off of her. Her tone was so abrasive, but it didn't hurt Stefan, it just made him look at her with pity. "He doesn't _deserve _to be treated like some fragile doll! He _lied _to me, and now we know that he _killed _your girlfriend's mother. I'm done trying to make peace with him!"

"I know, Claire. Believe me, I know. What Damon did to you was wrong, and I completely understand why you want to get back at him." She silenced upon his agreement, watching as Stefan searched her eyes to find some calmness inside. "But you can't use this as an excuse to attack him. As much as he deserves it, he _is _fragile right now. If we push him the wrong way, he'll turn his humanity off again."

"After _everything _he's put us through?" Claire whispered, shaking her head. "I _know _he's your brother, Stefan. I know that. But Damon has done nothing but lie to us and betray us and _abandon _us over the years. We need to stop protecting him at some point. _You _need to stop protecting him!"

"You know it's not that simple." Claire sighed, frustrated, but Stefan just shook his head. "Look, you _know _I would do anything for you. But right now, I _need _you to do this for me. I need you to hold off on sharpening your pitchfork just yet." The female vampire looked over at the one in front of her, and a smile threatened her lips.

"_Fine_," Claire agreed unwillingly. "Fine! I will hold off on the pitchfork, but you know I can't hold off my anger for long. I thought avoiding Damon for the last few days would make it go away, but all I can think about is driving a stake through that _empty _chest cavity of his." Her blue orbs drifted up to capture Stefan's green ones. "You know, I'm starting to lose track of the favors you owe me."

"Well, can you add one more to the list?" Stefan asked hopefully. Claire immediately dropped her faint smile. "I need you to keep this from Elena. Until I know for sure that Damon was the one who killed Isobel, I don't want her to know. Do you think you could take her to the Grill and keep her distracted while I talk to Damon?"

A long, heavy sigh escaped the vampire's lips, but she knew she had no choice. She rubbed her eyes and then dropped her hands to her sides with an exasperated slap. "What are friends for?"

* * *

The fundraiser was a huge success for such a small town—nearly all of the desperate, single women in town showed up at the Grill for it. Even some of the married ones showed up, too. Claire was sure she'd even seen a woman with a big, fat diamond engagement ring buying a raffle ticket. It was pathetic, really, but she wasn't in a place to judge. After all, she'd been sleeping with the enemy for over a hundred years and was married while doing so. In hindsight, she was probably the worst offender of them all.

While she was at the bar getting herself a strong drink to hold her over until Stefan arrived, Claire heard her name from behind her. "Claire King?"

She turned around to face an elegant, bright-eyed, smiling woman who looked pleased to meet her acquaintance. Claire slid off the bar stool and gave the sophisticated woman a smile. "Yes."

"I'm Carol Lockwood." Carol stuck out her hand, and Claire took it with just a moment of hesitation until she realized who she was dealing with. Carol Lockwood was obviously the wife of Richard Lockwood, the town's mayor. "Sheriff Forbes told me that you arrived into town a while ago. I apologize for not being able to meet you sooner."

Claire shook her head. "It's no problem at all. Truth is, it's been a hassle getting settled." The bartender finally served Claire her drink, and she took it with a gracious response and turned back to Carol, who chuckled.

"I can imagine. Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about your family's spot on the Founder's Council." Claire took a light sip of her drink, realizing exactly what this little conversation was about. Carol wanted her to join the Council and take her Uncle Jack's spot. Sure enough, Claire was right on point. "I was hoping you would take over for your family's spot since there are no other Kings living in Mystic Falls. Jack was the only one."

"Mrs. Lockwood—"

"Please," Carol interjected. "Call me Carol."

"Carol," Claire corrected as a courtesy. They began to walk down from the bar and into the crowd of single women. "I would love to take Uncle Jack's spot, but I feel like—"

"She's not ready to take over the position so soon." Claire and Carol turned their heads to face their interruption. Damon Salvatore emerged from the crowd and circled the blonde vampire, all the while keeping his eyes locked on the delectable Mrs. Lockwood. Damon pouted. "Grieving over her Uncle Jack has been so hard on her. Hasn't it, Claire?"

Damon's eyes drifted for just a second to look down at her, but then he looked back up at Carol Lockwood with a smile that practically made the grown woman's knees buckle. Claire felt a surge of anger rise within her, and she couldn't stop herself before it was too late.

"Actually, Carol, on second thought, I would be absolutely _delighted _to join the Council." She gave Carol a warm, inviting smile, conveying her false innocence. Damon's eyes cut to her and watched as Claire just glanced up at him. "I think it'd be the perfect way for me to start moving on. Don't you think, Damon?"

It was a mistake, sure, but it was one she would have to deal with later. Damon's attitude, his actions, and his lies were starting to take its toll on Claire and she was growing relentless. She was beginning to feel like she wanted to do everything in her power to piss Damon off.

"Wonderful," Carol chirped, looking back and forth between the vampires. "I trust Damon can fill you in on everything there is to know. Won't you, Damon?"

Damon hummed underneath his breath and the two vampires looked back at Carol with their blue eyes. "Yes. Of course I will. Later," Damon added and extended a hand to Carol. "But, first, why don't I buy you a drink?"

The lustful Mayor's wife was surprised at first, but didn't object to Damon's charm. He led her away to the bar without another word to the blonde vampire who was left to watch as the two walked away. She wasn't jealous or hurt, she was _angry. _In fact, she'd never been angrier in her life. Every single fiber in her being wanted to confront Damon about Elena's mother and use it as an excuse to fight him on the issue of what she was _really _angry about. However, she made a promise to her friend that she would refrain.

It wasn't long before the auctioning started—around drink number three according to Claire. She was standing in the crowd watching a bunch of desperate middle-aged women fawn over the men up on the auctioning block. Carol was introducing each of the bachelors separately, earning applauses and hollers from the sea of women.

"And what do you do bachelor number three?" Carol asked the third bachelor she interviewed for the middle-aged women who ogled over him. The mayor's wife held out the microphone for the bachelor to respond.

"Yeah, I'm a plumber."

"Well, isn't that wonderful? We could always use more plumbers." Scattered laughs rode over the crowd as Carol quickly moved on. "Moving on. Number four, Alaric Saltzman. Wow, that's a mouthful." She laughed, and the crowd copied her sophisticated giggle. "What do you do, Alaric?"

"I'm a teacher at Mystic Falls High," the ruggedly handsome teacher answered, earning an approval from Carol.

"Oh! Beauty _and _brains, ladies! This one's a keeper! What do you teach?"

"History."

"History? Oh, well give us a fun fact about Mystic Falls? Something…crazy," Carol prompted and put the microphone up to Alaric's lips. As Claire watched from the crowd with a glass of scotch in her hand, she felt Stefan's hand reach out and touch her arm as he came beside her. Claire and Stefan could hear the buzz of Alaric's delayed answer over the speakers as Stefan smiled at Claire and she smiled back, letting him know that she was fine.

After a moment of awkward silence between the crowd, Carol saved Alaric and brought the microphone to her lips. "He's probably saving the best stories for his date." A soft chuckle moved over the crowd as Carol moved on yet again to their last contender. "And last but not least, Damon Salvatore. We don't…have much on you." Carol showed Damon the index cards she'd been looking over.

Claire scoffed. "I can come up with a few crafty words to put on that index card," she murmured to Stefan.

Up on stage, Damon just shrugged. "Well, I'm…tough to fit on a card."

Stefan spotted Elena in the crowd and waved to her, and Elena waved back to him with a soft smile. Beside Stefan, Claire just gagged and drained her drink, passing the empty glass to Stefan, who just cocked an eyebrow at the gesture.

"Well, do you have any hobbies? Like to travel?"

"Oh, yeah!" Damon exclaimed in the microphone. "L.A…New York...Couple years ago, I was in North Carolina, near the Duke campus, actually. I think…I think Alaric went to school there. Didn't you, Ric?" Alaric and Damon turned to each other on stage as Damon rambled on. In the crowd, Claire and Stefan both stiffened. "Yeah, because I…I know your _wife _did. I had a drink with her once. She was…" Damon scoffed. "She was a great girl. Did I ever tell you that? She was…_delicious_. Mm."

"Oh…_shit_," Claire moaned quietly and she and Stefan immediately turned their heads to see Elena, who was slowly coming to the realization. Elena excused herself from the table next to Jenna and the next thing Claire and Stefan knew, they were all outside standing at the back entrance to the Grill.

"Elena," Stefan began as he walked outside, but Elena was frantic.

"He killed her? _Damon _was the vampire that killed her?" she asked.

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know what happened. Alaric said that they never found the body," he explained.

"But the likelihood of it is that Damon…_did _kill her," Claire admitted, crossing her arms. "At least, that's what Alaric thinks."

"Oh, my God…" Elena trailed off, trying to let it soak in. "Stefan…"

Stefan immediately tried to console her. "I know. I'm sorry…I wanted to tell you, but I just—I wanted to know more."

"I was feeling _sorry _for him," Elena admitted, throwing her hands up. "Hoping that this whole _Katherine _thing would…change him. I was so stupid."

"He doesn't know about the connection to you," Stefan admitted to her. "I thought about confronting him, but he's already so on edge—"

"Ugh!" Claire groaned, throwing her hands up. "I am _sick _of this mess! Sick of it! Damon Salvatore does not _deserve _our protection, Stefan, why do you keep giving it to him?"

Stefan turned to her sharply. "Because Elena is _not _the only one hoping that he can change, Claire!"

A long moment of silence passed before Claire just gave up. "I'm sorry, Stefan. But I seem to be the only one here that actually knows who the real Damon Salvatore is and that he's never going to change!"

She set off to go inside the building, but Elena's call brought her back. "Claire!"

"What?" the vampire snapped, turning around. Elena jerked her head forward and Claire turned hers to the side to see where Elena was staring. Stefan joined in on throwing his glance to where Elena was looking, and on the other side of the street was a man—the man that they saw outside of Trudie's house.

"Who is that, Elena?" Stefan asked, his voice quiet.

"He was outside of Trudie's house this morning," Claire murmured and tore her gaze away from the man across the street. "Elena, get inside. Now."

Elena hurriedly rushed inside, and made straight headway to the bathrooms to avoid seeing Jenna or anyone else in her fragile state. As Claire and Stefan rushed to find Elena to get her out of the Grill, Elena had come out of the bathroom sniffing when Damon blocked her from leaving.

"Whoa! Easy there. Buy a ticket like everyone else," he taunted her, smirking.

"Did you enjoy that?" Elena snapped at him, brushing past his useless innuendo. "Rubbing it in to Alaric Saltzman?"

Damon shrugged. "Well, actually—"

"Just as I was starting to think that there was _something _redeemable about you," the teenager snarled. It was then that Stefan and Claire interrupted, Stefan coming behind Damon and Elena and saying Elena's name softly.

When Damon saw his brother and his brother's best friend behind him, he knew something was deeply wrong. Claire held up at hand in front of Stefan's face.

"No, Stefan. I've been sitting on this for more than an hour. It's about time Damon realizes what he's done."

Damon sighed. "Am I…missing something, here?"

"Yes, actually, you are," Claire retorted, shrugging. "See, Elena and I went to go see her birth mother's friend today. But when we got home, Stefan told me something pretty interesting." Everything fell drop dead silent as Claire said the words slowly so that Damon could hear every single syllable. "_You _were the one that killed her."

Again, that same silence loomed, but this time, Damon just laughed. "That's _ridiculous. _I didn't kill Elena's birth mother."

"Really?" Elena asked from behind Damon, making him turn around. "Oh, right. Claire forgot to mention her name. It was _Isobel_." Elena watched as Damon's smile dropped from his face immediately and she fought back tears. "Go ahead. Reminisce about how you _killed _her."

Without waiting for Damon to say anything else, Elena brushed past the dark-haired vampire and began to power-walk outside. Stefan soon went after her after a disappointed glare towards Damon, and Claire and Damon were eventually the only two standing.

Damon sighed. "This…doesn't really help the whole…_angry _thing, does it?"

She didn't respond. Instead, in a flash of blind rage, her palm collided with Damon's face at a force that stung—even for a vampire. Damon kept his face turned to the side, his cheek stinging red but healing by the second. He held his jaw, basking in the shame that came along with the slap. Claire watched him as his blue gaze cut to her, studying her face as she let out a shaking breath.

Her voice was only but a whisper before she walked away. "That was for Christopher."

* * *

Stefan had taken Elena home after the man who had showed up at Trudie's and the Grill had interrogated her about leaving Isobel alone. When she finally agreed to it under Stefan's advisement, the human man threw himself in front of a moving truck and killed himself. Claire was given a full recap on the phone as Stefan took Elena back to her house, but she stayed at the Grill to have one more drink before she left to go back to the boarding house to most likely face Damon. She had learnt that Carol Lockwood won the raffle—not that it was a surprise, it was obviously rigged. And to think, it was the Mayor's wife. How indiscreet.

When she returned back to the house, the first thing Claire did was walk into the study and poured herself a glass of bourbon to keep the buzz still going. Being a vampire had its perks, but the downside of it was that they didn't stay buzzed for long. She desperately needed something to keep her mind off the mind-numbing pain she felt in her chest thinking about the fact that while she argued with Damon, helped Stefan, and saved Elena, she did nothing for herself but find a bunch of willing men and feed on them day and night. It was the only way she could keep herself from breaking apart—to deny it over and over again that the problem just…disappeared.

She could hear the sound of breathing in the study when she took a moment to herself; and though the fire was crackling in the parlor, there was another one lit, too. With her glass of bourbon still in hand, she walked into the study to find a dead body on the floor and Damon on the couch, watching the burning embers of the fire.

Claire sauntered into the room and eyed the dead body on the floor. It was Alaric's, the deadly History teacher with a nasty little secret and vicious vendetta. Her heels stopped right by the teacher's head, and it took only a moment for Damon to respond in a dull, uninterested tone.

"Go ahead," Damon said darkly, taking a sip out of his glass. Claire looked up at him. "Lecture me about what a…_bad _person I am. I've heard it all before."

Claire pursed her lips, and if he'd asked her to lecture him a few hours ago, she would've jumped at the chance to yell and scream in his face. She would've reveled in the sight of him doing nothing while she jerked him around and kicked and screamed. But now…after slapping him, she realized that it wasn't Damon who was the problem. Yes, she was angry that he lied, but that hole inside of her chest that wouldn't go away wouldn't magically disappear because she lectured Damon. It was useless.

Claire walked over to the couch and sat down beside the vampire. "I'll leave Stefan to that. It's been one hell of a day." A dark silence came over them and, for the longest time, the sound of the fire cracking was the only thing between them until Damon finally broke the ice.

"Katherine told me that we were going to do something…_exciting_," Damon began, his voice only but a murmur. Neither Claire nor Damon turned to face each other as he spoke. "Naturally, I was interested. When she brought me outside, I thought it would be one of our games for her to kill someone again. Except…well, Pearl and Anna were waiting with a very…_weak _Christopher." Damon let out a deep breath and took a sip of his bourbon. Claire's eyes glistened over as she stared at the fire over her crossed legs. "Long story short, Katherine turned him and drained some of my blood so he could complete the transition. The next day, I saw him get dragged into the tomb with the rest of the vampires."

"And you never said anything," Claire filled in the part of the story he left out. Damon merely took a sip of his bourbon. "Why?"

Damon scoffed. "The guy never _loved _you, Claire. It was an _arranged_ marriage."

"That never made it any less real, Damon. We were once in the same situation," she reminded him. Damon's head turned to her and watched her as she slowly turned her head to meet his gaze. "It wasn't your decision to make."

Their eyes were fixated on each other's for a while until Damon tore his gaze away and put his finished bourbon glass on the table beside him. "Well, there's nothing either one of us can do about it now. That tomb is sealed. There's no getting back in it. So if you don't mind, I'd like to put this past us and just get back to…well, being _us _again."

Claire's eyes lingered on him, watching Damon as he stared at the fire, the reflection in his eyes. She watched his eyes fill with sorrow and hurt, but there was no remorse. There never would be.

Claire sighed and pulled herself up from the couch, Damon's gaze never leaving the fire. She walked around him and placed her half-full bourbon glass on the table next to his drink.

"There was never an 'us', Damon," Claire said softly, her fingers lingering over the top of the bourbon glass. Damon moved his eyes from the fire to her lingering hand before she removed it and left the study, her heels signaling her departure from both him and whatever salvation they had left.

* * *

All day, Christopher wandered around Mystic Falls trying to find what he was looking for, but what a long-shot it was that Clarissa was in the same place as he was. He spent the entire day searching, but what he found was that he needed help. Help that he _knew _existed—that he had seen at the town square. If he was to return to his wife, he needed to find other vampires from the tomb.

A little past the town of Mystic Falls, deep in the woods, Christopher could see a dimly lit house standing alone. He walked up the long pathway to the house and immediately knocked on the door once he reached it. From inside the house, Christopher could see Bethanne, the woman he saw on the bench earlier with Harper, come up to the door and open it for him with a smile.

"Pearl!" she called out over her shoulder while inspecting Christopher. "It's Christopher."

Bethanne walked the other way and in her place, Pearl and Anna came out to greet Christopher, who took in a nervously deep breath. Pearl greeted him with a kind smile, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be with them. He wanted to be with _Clarissa, _he just didn't know where she was. Pearl was his best chance at finding out.

"I'm glad you found us, Christopher," Pearl welcomed.

Christopher sighed. "Please, Miss Pearl. Do you know where I can find her?"

"All in good time, Mr. Fell. All in good time," Pearl repeated with a smile. "First, why don't we get you inside? You can't be…looking like _that_ when you see your wife for the first time in years, can you?" Pearl asked, looking over Christopher's clothes and darkened mouth stained with blood from earlier in the morning. Christopher looked down at his clothes and Pearl called over her shoulder, "Ms. Gibbons, this gentleman is a friend of mine. May he come in?"

A human woman appeared behind the dark-haired vampire and smiled genuinely. "Any friend of Pearl's is a friend of mine. Please do. Come in," Ms. Gibbons invited. Christopher eyed the threshold of the doorframe he was and easily stepped inside to his relief. Pearl stepped aside for Christopher to come in.

"Annabelle, close the door, please," Pearl instructed her daughter as Christopher crossed the threshold and followed Pearl into the house with Anna closing the door right behind him.


	8. There Goes the Neighborhood

**Hey, everyone! I know I just updated this a week ago, but I needed to get this chapter out because it's probably _the _most boring episode in TVD's first season and I knew that if I didn't write it and get past it, there would be no getting past it in the future, so here it is! Glad to see you're all hanging in there with me. Enjoy the chapter and review at the end, please!**

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)**

* * *

**There Goes the Neighborhood**

**Mystic Falls, 1865**

_Clarissa and Christopher walked down the brightly lit pathways in the midst of the town, their arms looped together. Silence washed over them for a long time, the only sound being the horses that created a background noise for them to focus on. _

_Christopher inhaled. "Your mother informed me that the Salvatores are attending our celebratory party next week." _

_Clarissa's eyes wandered around the people in the town square and she smiled. "Well, Father is quite fond of Giuseppe. It's no surprise. Besides, Stefan is my friend as well." _

"_Yes, but when Marianne said the Salvatores, she meant all of them," Christopher corrected his fiancée. Clarissa turned her head to look at him and he kept them moving without turning to look at her. _

"_You're worried I will cause some commotion with Damon?" Clarissa prompted. _

_Christopher finally turned to look at her. "That is not all I am worried about," he confessed, his eyes giving away what he was really insinuating towards. Clarissa stared at him, trying to decipher his double meaning, and when she figured it out, she just exhaled greatly and shielded her eyes. "Damon once told me how he felt," Christopher whispered to her. _

"_Damon is not aware of how he feels, himself, so how could he have told you?" Clarissa retorted, returning her blue eyes to Christopher's, who stayed silent. "He's…impulsive and reckless and…destructive." _

"_I would just like you to put my mind at ease, darling," Christopher pleaded, pulling them to a stop and turned them both so they were facing each other. "Nothing ever did happen between you two, did it? After all, you were the ones originally to be wed." _

_This was the time, Clarissa realized, that she should've come clean. The words should've left her mouth—the story should've been told. Instead, she stared at Christopher with hesitance and just shook her head. _

"_No. No, of course not, my love." A smile twitched at her lips, and Christopher let out a sigh of relief. "Damon Salvatore means nothing to me. You_ _are the one I am going to be with for the rest of my life, Christopher." _

_Her words were sweet, and somewhat true. Though her happiness with Christopher did not extent to a way that she wanted it to, she was starting to see a future. A future that she was content in. It was surely no way to enter into a marriage—to just be content on a relationship—but it had to do. _

_Christopher nodded slowly. "I do love you, Clarissa," he said slowly, his voice quiet. "Despite the fact that this is rushed, I…I honestly do love you." _

_Clarissa dreaded those words from the very moment she learned that she was being forced to marry Christopher Fell. Every time she wanted to say those words, she just couldn't. She would choke up, unable to get those three words out without a hitch. _

_So, instead, she settled upon nodding and leaned forward to give her fiancé a light kiss, one that told him how she felt without actually saying it. Did she love Christopher Fell? Maybe to some extent, she did. _

_Or, perhaps, she was just fooling herself. _

* * *

"This century has a very strange sense when it comes to looks," Christopher murmured as he studied himself and his new haircut in the hand mirror that Pearl had given him. His earlier look had apparently been too shabby for modern taste, as had the rest of the vampires. Anna had a hairdresser compelled and brought to the communal house in the woods so that the hairdresser could give each of them a modern bump. Christopher's hair, once a little long and wispy, was now short and gelled, creating a whole new persona for him.

"Well, I think you look wonderful, Christopher," Pearl voiced behind him. Christopher set down the hand mirror and turned to her with a sorrowful expression.

"Miss Pearl, I know there is a lot that I have to learn about these new times. But if you know where my wife is, you must tell me. I need to know that she is still out there—I need to _see _her," Christopher begged. Never did he think there would come a day he would have to beg to see his wife. But never did he think that he would become a creature of the night entrapped in an underground hole for nearly a century.

"Christopher," Pearl began in almost a condescending tone. "I can understand your impatience. But I need you to trust me. If you seek Clarissa before I've had a chance to speak with the Salvatore brothers—"

Christopher's head snapped up and his eyes became focused. "The Salvatore brothers?" he repeated, earning Pearl to stop in the midst of her sentence and sigh. "That's where she is, isn't she? With Stefan?"

"And Damon, yes," Pearl agreed, nodding once. "But I _need_ you to keep your patience just a little while longer. Please. I promise you, Clarissa isn't going anywhere."

A long silence passed between the two old vampires, and Christopher just shook his head once. "Miss Pearl, I'm very sorry if I've given you the wrong impression of my intentions," he began, slowly realizing why it was so important for Pearl to hide him. "I didn't come here to help you with seeking revenge on this town for what happened over a hundred years ago. I came to find my _wife_."

"And you will," Pearl promised Christopher, earning him to sigh. "Just give it a little more time. I'm sure Clarissa will be more than impressed if you show up on her doorstep and already know the ways of this glorious modern world."

Pearl gave a soft smile and before they could continue arguing, Harper joined them. Both Christopher and Pearl turned around as Harper entered the room with a shy smile.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, Miss Pearl, but Anna left this in the hallway," Harper told the dark-haired vampire, holding up the cell phone device. Pearl's smile brightened as she let a soft chuckle through her mouth.

"Ah, yes! This marvelous contacting device." Pearl's eyes moved over to Christopher, who was eyeing the mirror by his hand. "Christopher? How would you like me to show you what my daughter showed me the other night about this device? It's quite intriguing."

The offer was enticing, and seeing as Christopher had nothing better to do than wait for Pearl's instructions, he ended up nodding. "Why not, Miss Pearl?" he agreed, giving the lady vampire a smile.

Pearl gave him one in return and glanced over at Harper. "Harper, why don't you join us?" Harper nodded immediately, and in no time, they were all situated at the table, watching as Pearl held the device in her hand and began to show them all of the things that it could do. She went over the instructions Anna told her the night before, relaying them to both old-fashioned vampires. "And the keypad is for…texting, which is what you do when you want to avoid talking to someone."

Christopher made a face of approval as Pearl gave him the phone to examine for himself. "Inventors these days must be very intelligent to come up with a concept so useful," he praised as he pressed a button on the keypad accidentally.

As soon as the button was pressed, a voice appeared over the phone, making all three vampires jump in their seats. _"Anna! It's Jeremy. I haven't heard from you in a while…" _

Pearl and Harper both laughed at the device while Christopher eyed it, finding the device both confusing and exciting at the same time. All of a sudden, Anna appeared from behind Christopher and reached over him to grab the phone and immediately shut off the voice on the other side of the phone.

"I…I merely pressed a button…" Christopher shrugged in his defense, looking up at Anna.

"I was just showing Harper and Christopher what you taught me," Pearl told her daughter excitedly. "What a _marvelous _device!"

"Who was that?" Harper questioned the young vampire standing behind Christopher.

"Jeremy Gilbert," Anna responded reluctantly. Suddenly, beside Christopher, Pearl's smile dropped as Harper's extended from the other side of the bronze-haired vampire.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Harper teased. Christopher looked back at Anna waiting for an answer, but Pearl spoke before rising from her seat with a scoff.

"Of course not," answered Pearl for her daughter. Christopher and Harper watched as the dark-haired vampire walked to the threshold and spun around with a new, restrained smile on her face. Pearl gestured down to her new suit, eyeing Anna for an opinion. "What do you think?"

"Vey respectable," Anna praised.

"That's the goal," responded Pearl, looking down at the crisp suit. "I can't say that I miss corsets."

Anna smiled. "Susie Sunshine gave me her car keys…_and _her ATM card."

Pearl put her pocketbook on her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"I'll explain later." When Anna and Pearl began to leave the room, Frederick, one of the angrier, more impatient vampires who'd escaped from the tomb, appeared at the doorframe, leaning against it casually.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice dark and accusing.

"We have some business in town," Pearl responded. "We'll be back as soon as we can. I trust that you'll keep an eye on things?"

"So I'm the babysitter now?"

"Frederick, if this is going to work, we have to cooperate with one another."

Frederick nodded slowly and peered up at Pearl with reproachful eyes. "So you say."

Harper stood up from his seat to solve the conflict. "Christopher and I will watch things, Miss Pearl," he offered. Christopher looked up at Harper, but he didn't object to the offer that he set on the table.

Pearl turned around to see Harper and Christopher nodded to agree with the other vampire's compromise. "Thank you." She then turned back to Frederick, who was eyeing Harper with devilish eyes, and Pearl and Anna left the room without humoring Frederick again. Once they were gone, Frederick gave an evil stare towards Harper and Christopher before casually walking out from the threshold.

* * *

When Damon returned to the boarding house from a meeting with Liz Forbes, he instantly sensed that something was wrong. The house was empty, or so it was supposed to be. Stefan was with Elena and Claire was drowning her sorrows at the Grill with the unlimited supply of liquor. But when Damon entered the house, he could feel that someone was waiting for him.

He looked back and forth and followed the sound of unusual behavior in his ears. It was pulling him towards the parlor and its connecting room, where sure enough, a dark-haired, sophisticated vampire was waiting for him with her back turned.

"Hello, Damon," Pearl greeted.

"Ever hear of…knocking?" Damon quipped, coming to a halt a few feet away from the turned Pearl, who didn't move at his presence.

"An invitation wasn't necessary. I'm surprised that no living person resides here." Finally, she rose to her feet and turned around to face Damon, Anna standing beside her mother just a few feet away. "Is it just you and your brother?"

"And one annoyingly depressed blonde vampire," Damon added with a shrug.

Pearl hummed and narrowed her eyes. "Yes. Anna told me about Clarissa's return to Mystic Falls. She must be quite upset at you for keeping her husband's real location a secret all these years."

Damon's eyes wandered around the room and cut to Pearl. A sly, restrained smile slid across Damon's face. "You know, my brother and I have a different method for dealing with unwanted vampires. We kill them."

In the blink of an eye, Damon was standing right in front of Pearl with his hand locked tightly around the old vampire's throat. He squeezed as hard as he could, but it seemed to do nothing to faze Pearl. She merely just reached up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it to the side. Damon fought hard, but Pearl's strength was too much, and with a few grunts and a muttered expletive, he was thrown on the floor by the small beige couch. Pearl smiled down at him victoriously and viciously.

"Have a seat, Damon." The raven-haired vampire got up from his place on the floor and sat down on the couch to meet the eyes of Pearl and Anna. "I was hoping we could have a word."

Damon just relaxed back on the couch and gave Pearl a sour smile. "Sure."

It wasn't long before Pearl began to enlighten to the Salvatore vampire with the news that all of the vampires from the tomb have been released, causing Damon to grow increasingly stressed about the situation.

"We've taken up residence at a farmhouse outside of town," Pearl explained. "It'll suffice for now."

"All twenty-five vampires?" Damon questioned.

"Not all. Some. I imagine that a few already left town. Others are probably still in the woods, or like us, acclimating," responded Pearl, glancing up to Anna. Her eyes moved back to Damon, who was processing all the information he was given. "And while we're talking about the vampires who have come to us, I'll have you know that Christopher Fell arrived as well, looking for your dear Clarissa."

Damon turned to Pearl and spoke slowly, "So why haven't you sent him her way? Obviously you knew she was here."

Pearl's shoulders went up and down. "Anna and I have been preparing him for their reunion. And I thought it would give you a head start. Katherine always suspected there was more than meets the eye when it came to you two."

"Well, there's not," Damon shot her down, causing Pearl to eye him with suspicion. Damon ignored it and turned to Anna, who was pacing beside her mother. "How'd they even get out of the tomb?"

Anna shrugged. "I think that witch screwed up that part of her hocus-pocus."

"Oh." Damon's voice dripped with bitter sarcasm.

"I understand that the founding families still have a secret council?" Pearl questioned, and Damon just shrugged as an answer.

"And you're apart of it," Anna pointed out.

Damon scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

"I've been in Mystic Falls since the comet, Damon," Anna told the raven-haired vampire pointedly. "I'm up to speed."

"And so am I," Pearl tagged on. "And now that you've infiltrated the Council, I'll need to know _everything _they know. Starting with a list of all the Council members and their families."

"And everyone you've supplied with vervain," Anna added.

Pearl nodded. "Yes, _that _will have to stop immediately," she ordered. The fact that the two vampires had invited themselves into his home and made demands of him that he was less than willing to comply with had Damon growing more frustrated by the moment.

He narrowed his eyes at the mother-daughter duo and said skeptically, "What _exactly _are you trying to achieve?"

"Mystic Falls is our home, Damon," Pearl rationalized. "They took that from us. Our land, our home. It's time we rebuild."

"What, are you _crazy_?" Damon condescended, biting his lip. "That was 1864. Wake up, woman! The world has moved on!"

"As a reward, I'm willing to give you what you want most," Pearl compromised.

"I want _nothing_—"

"Katherine," Pearl interrupted him with one single, crisp word that cut to Damon's core. For a moment, he considered it, but then he saw right through the trick that Pearl was trying to play on him.

"You wouldn't even know where she was. You've been in the ground for the last century and a half," Damon accused.

"Katherine and I were best friends…_long _before we came to Mystic Falls, Damon," the other vampire retorted. "I know how she thinks. I know her patterns. I know where to find her."

Pearl watched as a flicker of emotional turmoil crossed Damon's face, but he just leaned forward on his knees and responded tersely, "I no longer have _any _desire to see Katherine _ever _again. And there's no way in _hell _I'm gonna play the role of your little minion."

Damon started to rise from his seat, but Pearl flashed up from hers and forced Damon back down on the couch, all done with niceties. "I'm not _asking _for your help, Damon. Finding Katherine was just a…mere _gesture _of kindness. The rest is non-negotiable."

Pearl flashed forward again, and this time, her eyes dug into Damon's eye sockets and showed no mercy as she quite literally clawed his eyes out so a thick coat of blood was on both of her thumbs. Damon grabbed her wrists and tried to pull her off of him, but the only thing that he was accomplishing was a loud groan that escaped his lips at the pain. Pearl hissed, her fangs elongating and her eyes growing bloodshot with snake-like veins slithering underneath. Thick streams of blood poured onto Damon's shirt as Pearl yanked him from the couch with her thumbs still in his eyes and tossed him onto the floor.

"I have 400 _years _on you, little boy," Pearl snarled. "I'll rip you from limb to limb without even blinking and you know it. I'll be in touch."

* * *

_The air was cold, but it was tolerable to the twenty-year-old girl, so she didn't complain. But going outside in the middle of the night had been her idea, anyway; so there was really no room to criticize. The pond beside her house wasn't frozen over, but it was far from swimmable. Clarissa thought back to the days when she would come out in the middle of the night, like she was doing at that moment, but she had a companion with her most of those times—Damon, of course. But in light of their ongoing five-year argument, all hopes of being friends again with Damon had faded away a long time ago. Now, Stefan was her replacement, and as much as she loved the boy like he was her own brother, she couldn't tell him everything. He was so young…so naïve, and so wrapped up with Katherine Pierce, it was disturbing. She had him under some sort of spell—Clarissa was sure of it. Nevertheless, Stefan was happier than he'd been in a long time._

_She wished she had the same kind of happiness. _

_The night was silent; it was her sole piece of solitude. In the midst of getting ready for her wedding, dealing with Christopher's family, and among other things, Clarissa had been swamped with people and plans. She rarely had any time to herself to think. Her twenty-first birthday would be just days after the wedding and would make sure that her deadline was met. She couldn't back out of the wedding with such short notice otherwise there would be consequences she couldn't deal with. Her parents were so proud of her for marrying Christopher, it seemed unfair of her to take away their happiness to suit her own selfish needs._

_Christopher's questions the other day had gotten to her in the deepest, darkest parts of her mind. She lied to him, there was no other word to explain what she did. She lied so blatantly and so well that she wanted to believe what she was saying, but she just couldn't because it wasn't true. There had been something going on between her and Damon—her best-kept secret. _

_She used to, with her former friend, sneak outside at night and throw stones into the pond. They would skip if you threw them just right, and after a few nights, Damon had taught her the correct way and she had become a prodigy of skipping stones. The nights were fresh in her memory, and as it seemed, she wasn't the only one. _

"_I wasn't aware that you still come out here." Clarissa turned around to face Damon approaching the pond, looking as if he'd just rolled out of bed. He cleared his throat. "I will leave, then." _

"_You can stay," she whispered, turning around to face the quiet pond. Damon looked back at Clarissa, her pale blonde hair a beacon in the moonlight. "It would be nice to be around a fresh face." _

_She barely felt it when Damon came beside her, exhaling largely. "A fresh face. Well, I suppose that is all I am now, after all. We rarely speak. Not without…reason, of course." Clarissa was silent, and Damon's eyes never left the open pond. "How is your fiancé?" _

"_He is well," Clarissa responded, her voice soft. "And Miss Pierce?" _

"_Delightful," Damon told her, earning a curt nod from the blonde beside him. Things fell silent, but Damon broke that silence for fear of it getting too far. "I really am quite surprised you still come out here. What with the wedding, you rarely have time for anyone else. Not even my brother, apparently." _

_Clarissa straightened. "I have been avoiding Stefan," she confessed, earning Damon's confused expression. It was all eased in her next words. "He keeps questioning me about our first fight. It seems no lie I spin has any effect on him. I am considering telling him the truth." _

"_I would prefer that you not," Damon said, his voice icy. Clarissa turned to him now, causing him to do the same. She looked at him questionably, earning him to clarify. "Things are already strained enough between my brother and myself because of our relationship with Miss Katherine. Learning about our past might upset him."_

_Clarissa studied him for a moment, but then, she realized. A small scoff escaped her lips. "Spare me your worry for your brother's feelings, Damon. You would only like me to keep the truth hidden so your beloved Katherine will not find out!" _

"_I am doing us both a favor by keeping it a secret," returned Damon at the same tone. She just turned her cheek, but he kept trying to get her attention. "How would you handle things if your fiancé found out?" _

_The girl before him fell silent, biting the inside of her cheek in a bad habit as she tried to stop the words she wanted to say—she would be pleased if he found out. Instead of saying those cruel words, she picked up her dress and turned, but it was too late. Damon had already seen through her like she was transparent._

"_Unless…" he trailed off, pulling her back. She kept her jaw locked. "Do you _want_ him to find out, Clarissa?"_

"_Don't be ridiculous," Clarissa said softly, straightening and narrowing her eyes. "He is already jealous enough that we were the ones originally set to be wed. Why would I add to that?"_

_She tried to walk away again, but Damon cut in front of her, stopping her from leaving. "You are not in love with him, are you?" _

"_What?" Clarissa whispered, trying to sound offended. "Damon—"_

"_I know what you look like when you are in love," Damon countered, his eyes roaming across her face. She jerked her head back in the slightest, examining his moving eyes. "You are not in love with him, are you?" he repeated, his hand finding the side of her face. He cupped it, tilting her head up to his. _

_Clarissa studied him carefully, trying to pick out what he was trying to achieve. Eventually, she settled upon gazing up at him and speaking in a soft tone. "I don't see what you are referring to. Christopher is wonderful and I care so very deeply for him. Just as you do with Miss Pierce." _

"_She…" Damon trailed off, trying to get the words off his chest, but Clarissa stopped him. _

"_Do not forget, Mr. Salvatore." Her hand moved up and grabbed his from her face, and she slowly moved it so that it dropped to his side. Whispering, she let her eyes drop to his lips. "We are no longer friends. We are enemies." _

_Damon watched as she moved past him, not even mumbling so much as a goodnight, and a look of hurt crossed his face as he pondered over her words. He was left standing underneath the moonlight, fearful that her words were actually true._

_Katherine Pierce stood on the deck of the Salvatore house, overlooking the pond beside the King's mansion, where Damon stood and Clarissa walked away from. She was overcome with jealousy upon hearing their conversation, and she came to realization that she had been right all along. Damon and Clarissa weren't just former friends, they were former lovers—lovers gone wrong, it seemed. Emily Bennett stood by her side, waiting for Katherine's order. _

"_What should we do, Miss Katherine?" Emily asked, her voice small. Truth be told, Clarissa King was the only one she actually liked in the new town of Mystic Falls. Although loyal to Katherine, she was never fond of vampires. Clarissa, a human, was genuinely kind, unlike her vampire master. _

"_Well," Katherine exhaled, straightening her shoulders in a defensive stance as she watched Damon return to the side of the river and bend down to grab a handful of stones. "Clarissa's wedding is less than a week away. It would be rude of me to ruin such a beautiful affair." Katherine's kind smile turned down, becoming dark and envious. "But I doubt having a marital tie will stop her from coming after my Damon." _

"_Is it a spell you want, Miss Katherine?" Emily asked sweetly, folding her hands across her lap. Katherine watched as Damon threw a stone at the pond before him so it skipped across the water three times. _

"_No, Emily," Katherine said, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I would much rather prefer my own method of torture." Katherine turned sharply to her witch. "After Clarissa King's wedding, she will be absolutely ruined." Her head turned to the side for just a moment to watch as the Kings' daughter walked inside of her house. "I'll make sure of it." _

* * *

As Claire poured another shot of tequila into her reused shot glass and ran out of liquid to fuel her depression, she felt the eyes of the bartender on her behind the slab. Without a word, she knocked back her drink and hissed at the strong taste as the bartender intently watched. She wouldn't lie, she was a _tiny _bit drunk, but wasn't it acceptable? She had stopped preying on men, but the tradeoff for that was to drink and drink and drink until the pain went away or dulled, at least. The only way she would really get the pain to go away was to turn off her emotions, but Stefan had thankfully prohibited her from doing so.

When she finished the shot, she knocked the shot glass down on the counter and slid the empty bottle to the bartender with a sly, drunken smile. She tapped the empty glass bottle promisingly.

"Do you mind fetching another one, buddy? I seem to be all _out_." Claire puckered her lips daintily.

The bartender shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss King. But I think I'm going to have to cut you off now."

Claire frowned and raised her hand, pinching her fingers together so they were just inches apart. "Come on, just a _little _more?" She was using compulsion now, her eyes focusing in on the bartender's so he would do what she wanted. Sure enough, the bartender gave her a shy smile and took the empty bottle from the bar and went to grab another bottle from the other side of the bar. As Claire sighed deeply from the excessive amount of alcohol she'd consumed, a grumpy voice sounded beside her.

"Fancy meeting you here." Claire turned her head, but the second she did, she instantly regretted it. Damon sat down in the seat to the left of her, shades covering his eyes. He was cranky—that much she was aware of.

"Leave me alone, Damon," Claire murmured as the bartender returned to her with another bottle of hard tequila. She tilted the bottle and poured herself another shot, not minding the alcohol that spilled over the edge of her shot glass. "Today is _so _not the day for making amends. I just want to sit here and drown all of my sorrows in _solitude_."

"Well, don't let me stop you. Besides, I didn't come here to make amends," Damon grumbled and turned to the bartender, pointing at him. "Bourbon. _Neat._"

Once again, Claire downed the shot and shuddered at the amount of alcohol entering her system. Damon sighed heavily, his shades still over his eyes. The sight was intriguing and skeptical to Claire, who just cocked an eyebrow and asked, "What's with the shades, Tom Cruise?"

Damon turned his head to her and, after a small hesitation, sighed and removed his glasses. "Sorry. My eyes are a little sensitive today. Not that you would care."

Claire shrugged. "Yeah. You're right. I don't." The bartender came up behind the bar with Damon's bourbon and the vampire exhaled as he accepted the drink. As Damon took a sip of his bourbon and Claire poured herself another shot, a voice sounded a seat away from Damon, earning his attention.

"You two are new, aren't you?"

"Oh, on the contrary," Damon returned, his eyes moving to the side to see the woman a seat away. "We're…_very _old."

Beside him, Claire scoffed and returned the tequila bottle to a standing position. "Speak for yourself, Grandpa."

The woman ignored Claire's comment, shamelessly flirting with Damon and using Claire as just a piece of leverage to up her conversation. "I haven't been gone that long. I would remember someone who looked like you."

"Yeah?" Damon prompted, sighing. "Where'd you go?"

"Around, about."

Damon chuckled. "Been there." He brought his bourbon glass to his lips and drained most of the alcohol from the crystal glass. Claire was beside him, pouring one drink after another.

"I love to see a man drown his sorrows. It's so…sexy," the woman commented, straightforward.

Claire peered out beside Damon and raised her shot glass in the air towards the woman. "_Yes, _but a woman drowning her sorrows is _much, _much sexier."

Damon's hard, icy eyes drifted towards Claire and watched as she knocked the shot back. When she returned to a leveled plane, she locked eyes with Damon and gave him an innocent, drunken smile, causing Damon to just shake his head at her and turn back to the woman on the other side of him.

"It's more like nursing my wounds. And you?"

"Well, I was supposed to be interviewing for the bartender job, but, um, I _think_ the manager blew me off."

"Well, that's not very nice," Damon murmured.

"Yeah. Last time I was in town, I slept with her boyfriend."

"Well, that's not very nice, either."

"It happens," the woman defended herself with a shrug. The blonde vampire beside Damon began to cough and laugh at the same time, choking on the mixture of her alcohol and her laughs. She was waving her hand in front of her face in the middle of her fit, but before Damon could intervene, another female voice sounded behind them.

"Kelly?" Jenna exclaimed, coming up to the bar with a pleased, surprised smile on her face. The woman at the bar, Kelly, turned her head and met Jenna with the same surprised smile. "Kelly Donovan!"

Kelly got out of her chair and the two women practically squealed at the sight of each other with huge grins on their faces. They hugged as a greeting until Jenna pulled away and said happily, "I heard you were back in town!" Her eyes drifted to Damon at the bar. "She used to _babysit _me."

"And then I used to _party _with her," Kelly added, tilting her head towards Jenna. At the bar, Damon placed his head on his hand and leaned back, a sick smile on his face.

"This woman was crazy," Jenna stated to Damon.

"Not as crazy as you!" Kelly defended.

"Ha. Not anymore," Jenna admitted sadly, but her eyes caught Claire pouring herself a shot. "Oh. Hey, Claire."

Claire looked up from pouring her shot and gave Jenna a small smile. "Morning, Jenna."

Jenna frowned. "It's five o'clock in the evening."

All heads turned to her, but the blonde just shrugged. "Whatever." And the tequila was knocked back into her mouth mercilessly.

Once they finished watching Claire knock back her shot, Kelly turned to Jenna with a smile. "Well, sit! Drink!"

"Uh, I shouldn't…" Jenna objected. "I'm responsible now. Haven't you heard?"

"Well, take a night off. It's good for the soul," Kelly suggested, sitting down in the seat next to Damon.

"_Great _for the soul," Damon tagged on, lengthening his words. Jenna, who was obviously longing to sit down, finally gave into her temptation and took a seat beside Kelly, sighing.

"This is _not _gonna end well," Jenna noted with a small laugh.

Damon hummed under his breath. "Can't wait." And the three raised their glasses in cheers.

* * *

_The King mansion was filled with guests that they were entertaining for the celebration of the marriage of Clarissa King and Christopher Fell. Almost the entire town was attending the pre-ceremonial dinner, including the infamous Salvatore brothers._

"_Damon," Giuseppe murmured to his son as they entered the King's mansion for the celebration. "I expect you to be on best behavior with Clarissa." _

_Damon cleared his throat. "You won't have to worry, Father. I'm sure she'll be avoiding me all night." _

"_Good," Giuseppe chirped, but his word was cold and heartless. As far as he was concerned, though, Clarissa and Damon had just been in a terrible fight and there was no recovery for it. For the longest time, Giuseppe was disappointed in Damon for ruining the one thing that could bring the Salvatores and the Kings to union, but Clarissa and Damon couldn't be in the same room without causing commotion in front of everyone. If Amelia were still around, there was no doubt that she and Stefan would've taken Damon and Clarissa's places, but she wasn't, which rid all hope for Giuseppe and even Edward King. _

_Now, Edward and his wife had to deal with unionizing with Thomas and Honoria Fell through the marriage of their children. He wasn't all that excited about it, but like Giuseppe, there was nothing that could be done. _

"_I'm going to find Clarissa and congratulate her," Stefan mumbled. Damon watched as his brother left his side, glum over the fact that Katherine Pierce had agreed to accompany Damon to the dinner instead of Stefan. Just as Damon watched his brother take off, Miss Katherine happened to arrive at Damon's side. _

_Katherine sighed heavily. "Ah, I think this shall be a lovely wedding. Don't you, Damon?" _

_In the midst of the crowd, Damon caught sight of Clarissa and Christopher standing together, conversing with George Lockwood and his wife. He felt sick at the sight, like he wanted to kick, scream, shout, and do everything humanly possible to stop the wedding from happening. But Katherine, a jealous creature by nature, expected a satisfying answer. _

"_Yes, Katherine. It should be a…lovely affair," Damon agreed with a small smile as they began to merge into the crowd. Katherine's grip tightened on him. _

"_Oh, Damon. Your longing is quite unattractive," Katherine sighed. Damon threw a glance to her and raised an eyebrow._

"_Longing? What do you mean?"_

"_I mean your longing for your beloved Clarissa." Katherine's jealousy dripped with venom from her words. _

_Damon brought them to a stop in the middle of the crowd and insisted upon lying. There was no hope for him and Clarissa King—why ruin everything good to him for a girl who hated every fiber of his being? "Katherine, I don't have the slightest idea of what you are referring to."_

_Katherine's innocent doe eyes swept across the room and she plastered a smile on her face. "Well, never mind my words, then. It does not matter, anyway. I actually feel bad for Clarissa, what with her marrying Christopher. She'll be so very dearly unhappy." _

_Katherine's light and airy words were sickening and confusing to the eldest Salvatore. As the young brunette tried to pull him out to the rest of the crowd, Damon stopped her. "Wait a moment, Katherine, what do you mean?" _

_The lovely brunette looked over at Damon and cocked her head. "Absolutely nothing, my darling. Come. Let's dance!" _

_But Damon didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Katherine pulled his arm and led him out to the small amount of couples swaying back and forth on the dance floor, but Damon couldn't shake Katherine's words. His eyes lingered on the beautiful blonde the entire night, worried as to what Katherine was implying. _

* * *

"I hate this house," Frederick complained aloud on the couch in the living room. Beside him, his vampire lover, Bethanne, knotted her eyebrows.

"It's better than the tomb," she presented.

"I didn't stay locked up for 145 years to end up locked in _here_."

"Maybe you should quit complaining," Harper propositioned on an armchair just across the couch where Frederick and Bethanne were. Beside him, Christopher sighed and took a sip out of the strong alcohol he had in the glass in his hand.

"Maybe…_everyone _here should quit complaining. It's not as if you all have a wife to return to…" Christopher mumbled, bringing the alcohol to his lips. Frederick's attention turned from Harper to Christopher on a dime.

"When are you going to stop moaning about your darling Clarissa?" asked the complaining vampire, earning Christopher to cut his gaze to Frederick as he stood. "You do realize that she's been out and about for a century and a half thinking you were _dead_. Are you really that _stupid _enough to think that she's waited for you all these years?"

This brought a rage out of Christopher that no one wanted to see. The alcohol glass suddenly found itself on the table beside him and he was facing Frederick head to head, his jaw squared.

"How about you just stop complaining and make everyone else's life easier, Frederick? Pearl has made her instructions clear. No one's to leave the house."

Frederick's eyes narrowed. "You gonna stop me?"

"Let it be, Frederick," Bethanne voiced behind him. "You heard what Pearl said."

"I don't care what Pearl said," Frederick responded, his eyes locking stares with Christopher. "What you got, boy?"

The question was obviously useless—Christopher was turned merely a day before being trapped in the tomb. Frederick was older, and therefore stronger by definition. But instead of Christopher being the one who did something to shut Frederick up, it was Harper who flashed out of his seat and pushed Frederick back onto the couch. The vampire recoiled and attacked Harper, pinning him to the nearest wall.

"Try that again," Frederick snarled. But it wasn't long before a third party, who gripped Frederick's throat and forced the violent vampire off of Harper, interrupted their fight.

"Back off!" Pearl demanded as she shoved Frederick off of Harper. "Back off. We don't fight each other. Those are the rules."

"And I'm tired of the rules. I want out of this house. Why can't we go into town?" Frederick breathed hurriedly.

"Eventually," Pearl answered him with a stern voice. "But for now, we have to keep a low profile."

"No one knows who I am!"

"The Salvatore brothers do," retorted Pearl. Frederick scoffed.

"And I wish to hell I could run into them. They're the reason we were caught in the first place," Frederick spat vindictively, but it didn't matter. Pearl was the strongest vampire in the whole house, and what she said was practically the law.

Or, at least, that's what she thought it was, anyway. Though Frederick had been thoroughly embarrassed by Pearl, it didn't stop him from taking Bethanne and heading for the door the second Pearl was out of his sight. They opened the door quietly and began to sneak out like a couple of high school teenagers, but they were eventually caught.

"Where are you going?" Harper asked as he and Christopher caught sight of the two vampires exiting the house. Bethanne whipped around, surprised, and Frederick just sighed.

"Bethanne and I are going out for a bit. Hit the town. Kick up our heels," Frederick told them. Christopher crossed his arms at the cocky vampire, and Harper stepped forward.

"But we're not supposed to leave," Harper objected. "Miss Pearl made that _very _clear."

Frederick stepped forward and practically spat in Harper's face, relaying the same words he'd said to Christopher earlier. "You gonna stop me?" Harper said nothing. "I didn't think so."

With a smug smile, Frederick turned on his heel and left the house with his girlfriend, leaving Harper and Christopher inside. Once Frederick had left the house, Christopher stepped forward towards the door.

"Wait, where are _you_ going?" Harper asked worriedly, fearing he had another traitor on his back. Christopher sighed and turned back to Harper.

"Well, someone has got to go after them, correct?" Christopher proposed as he opened the door for himself. "Tell Pearl what happened and that I have gone out to retrieve them before any damage can be done."

Christopher left, and soon after, Harper did what he asked.

* * *

"So, the thing about cherries…" Damon trailed off as he twisted a cherry stem in his mouth. "You have to…"

Kelly held up a finger to Damon's lips and shook her head. She produced her own cherry stem from her mouth, holding the tied stem between her teeth. Damon growled seductively.

"Oh, my _goodness_…" Damon moaned as he leaned forward and took the tied stem from Kelly's teeth and brought it to his own mouth, earning a soft chuckle from Kelly's lips. "That's amazing. You were quick."

The sexy actions made the woman beside Kelly just sigh heavily and walk around the two vulgar drunken adults over to Claire, who was pouring one drink after another and so on and so forth.

Jenna took a seat beside Claire and sighed. "So…what's got you down?" Elena's aunt asked. Claire extended the tequila bottle to Jenna and Jenna took it graciously, pouring herself a shot.

Claire sighed. "Well…let's just say it's…_super _complicated." Jenna ad Claire bumped glasses and downed their shots, feeling the burn afterwards. When they recovered from the sour shot, Jenna hissed and spoke again.

"Complicated is my middle name," Jenna returned, earning Claire to shoot Jenna a drunken smile.

"All right, fine. Bottom line is, my husband disappeared a while ago and I could've done something, but instead, I was forced to let him go." Claire shrugged and began to pour herself another shot, but Jenna stopped her with her mouth dropped on the floor.

"Wait, you're _married_?" Jenna asked in disbelief. Claire scoffed.

"Uh huh."

"When did you get married?" the adult pushed further. Claire lied smoothly without blinking twice.

"Oh, a _long, _long time ago. Feels like forever. I…guess it kind of has been," she mumbled and sniffed her drink, but she felt like it was doing nothing to her. Despite the fact that she had kept herself busy with drink after drink and entertaining man after man that came up to her and started conversation with Damon just a seat away from her, nothing was helping her situation. Claire watched as the clear liquid sloshed around in the glass and some spilled over the edge onto the counter.

Jenna just shook her head. "God, Claire. I'm…sorry."

Claire gave Jenna a sad smile and shook her head. "It's okay, I guess. Not much I can do about it now."

The two women were silent for a while and Claire exhaled, swiveling herself on the bar stool so she faced the crowd of the Grill. Jenna's mouth twitched before she asked a valid question. "What's his name?"

Claire opened her mouth to say Christopher's name, but her world suddenly came to a screeching halt when she saw someone fight his way through the crowd. The sight was like a dream to her, but she knew that she was very much in reality. At first, a million doubts went through her head all at once, but when he stopped and finally caught sight of her, coming to a halt as well, she knew that it was real. _He _was real.

"Christopher," Claire breathed out, and Jenna turned her head in the direction that Claire was looking in. Damon, who was standing beside Jenna entertaining Kelly, heard the name and instantly began to panic. He thought it was a fluke—that Christopher wasn't really there, but knowing that the vampires were out of the tomb and finally seeing Christopher in the crowd was enough to get him to realize what was happening. He watched as Claire immediately slid out of her seat, still drunk but now sobering because of the sight she'd witnessed.

"Clarissa?" Christopher asked himself, seeing the blonde vision before him. She was making his way towards her, and he stepped forward, as well, all thoughts of finding Frederick and Bethanne in the facility slipping away from him without a second thought. The two of them finally reached each other and came to a stop, examining each other's facial features to confirm.

"Oh, my God," Claire breathed, her chest tightening. "Oh, my God. It's you. It's really you."

"Of course it's me." Christopher nodded, a smile twitching at his lips at the sight of his long-lost wife standing in front of him. "I have been looking for you everywhere, Clarissa."

He could see the corners of her eyes start to water, and she stepped forward and touched his face, her breath catching at the touch. Christopher reached up and his fingers touched the back of her hand, the two of them standing nearly inches from each other. The sight was surreal, but it was right in front of her. All it took was one step and Claire was in Christopher's arms in a loving embrace, one to make up for all the lost time. They held onto each other, Claire's arms around his neck and Christopher's around her waist. No one else, it seemed, mattered to either of them.

Damon watched as the couple consoled each other by the entrance of the Grill, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek at the sight. So much for Pearl wanting to give him time. Beside him, Kelly looked in the direction he was staring and scoffed.

"What is it?" Kelly asked. On the other side of Damon, Jenna grabbed her stuff and began to exit the facility.

Damon turned to Kelly and tried to ignore the fact that the blonde vampire he'd spent the last century loving and hating all at the same time was now emotionally and physically unavailable to him. He hummed at the slutty woman in front of him and decided to use it straight to his advantage.

"Nothing, nothing." He shook his head and gave Kelly a signature smile. "What do you say we move this party elsewhere?"

A glint of want flashed in Kelly's eyes, and Damon had no doubts about her answer.

* * *

_The wedding had finally come, and the town was reeling over the union of the two Founding Families. Everyone had shown up to the Fell's mansion for the ceremony, including the Salvatores. But Giuseppe had told Damon that he mustn't go to the ceremony, seeing as he was so sure that Damon would cause an unnecessary scene and ruin the entire wedding and embarrass the Salvatore name._

_Damon had intended upon staying home—he thought it would be best for everyone, even him. But thinking over the celebratory dinner and Katherine's cynical words, Damon had a bad feeling about the wedding. He had a bad feeling about…everything, in general. Katherine may have tried to coax him into telling her what really went on with him and Clarissa and, though she failed miserably, that seed of doubt she planted in Damon's head regarding his ex-best friend's future husband kept Damon fidgeting. _

_He had to warn her. He had to at least try to. There was a pit in Damon's stomach that just churned thinking about the wedding and how happy everyone would be that the two were getting married. Katherine's words came back to him, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Katherine's words were true. He knew Clarissa would be unhappy, and he wasn't saying this because he wanted to be with her. Damon had a terrible feeling that she was making a grave mistake. He might've hated her, but he didn't want her to marry a man she didn't love._

_He had to stop it. _

_The Fell's mansion was easy to slip into without being noticed, but it was proven to be a challenge to stay under the radar. Michael Gilbert, Jonathan Gilbert's son, spotted him as Damon tried to round the corner to the study, where he knew the bride would be kept. _

"_Damon!" Michael bellowed, causing Damon to widen his eyes and look around to see if anyone had heard the shout. The drunken Michael Gilbert came up and smiled at Damon. "Come to see this _beautiful _wedding, haven't we?" _

_Damon let out a small laugh. "Yes. Yes, I have. I just could not resist it. If you'll excuse me…" _

_Damon left the drunken Gilbert son to himself and was thankful that he didn't come after him. Michael Gilbert was the product of Jonathan Gilbert's first marriage, where his wife died giving childbirth. Now, Jonathan Gilbert, a single man, was pining after the woman who ran the town's apothecary, Pearl. Michael was a terrible drunk, but his father was too insane to notice. Everyone in the town just disregarded Michael's very existence. _

_When Damon finally made his way to the study, he opened the sliding doors and all conversation came to a halt upon seeing him. Honoria Fell and Marianne King were standing around their daughter, who was dressed from head to toe in the purest form of white. Her blonde hair accented the white dress, he tip of her braid touching her ribcage. _

"_Damon?" Marianne asked with confusion lining her voice. There was no doubt in Damon's mind that Edward and Giuseppe had come up with the idea of Damon staying at home on their own. _

_Damon gave a small smile to the lovely Mrs. King and stepped inside the room. "Good afternoon, Mrs. King. Mrs. Fell. May I have a moment alone with your daughter?" Damon asked politely. _

_Clarissa was eyeing Damon, and as soon as Damon asked about a moment of privacy, the two women surrounding her looked up for any hint of an answer on her face. Clarissa cleared her throat and looked between the two women. _

"_It's…all right. Just a moment, please." Clarissa turned to Damon with her hands across her stomach and they both waited as Honoria and Marianne left the room with a silent stare to Damon. Once they were gone, the study door was closed, leaving them with the ultimate privacy. Clarissa sighed. "What is it, Damon?" _

"_Clarissa, please," Damon begged, shaking his head. "You should not be going through with this wedding." Clarissa turned her head and sighed, as if she expected it from him, but Damon wasn't willing to give it up. "Please! This isn't about you and me, Clarissa, this is about you_ _and your happiness—"_

"_My happiness?" Clarissa scoffed, turning to him abruptly with hard, angry eyes. "Since when have you ever cared about my happiness? All you want is to _destroy _it! You cannot stand to see me happy and when you do, you take it from me! That's all you've ever done!" _

"_How can you say that?" Damon growled. "I have come here today against my father's wishes to tell __you that I _want _you to be happy. But he can't give that to you and we both know it." _

"_On this day, you choose to be so selfish?" Clarissa snapped, clenching her fists. The bodice on her was so tight, she felt like it would snap from the rage she experienced. Damon could see the anger flash in her eyes, and he instantly began to regret ever disobeying his father. "You hate me much more than I ever _imagined _you would! To come here today and accuse me of not being happy with my fiancé if I marry him like I vowed to? To ask me to give up the one chance at a content life...?" She shook her head at him in angry disbelief, and then began to point to the door. "Get out! Get out, get out, get out!"_

_The yelling had gotten so out of control that the doors slid open to reveal Edward King and Giuseppe Salvatore, eyes widening at the turnout of Damon and Clarissa in the same room. _

"_Clarissa, what's going on?" Edward asked coldly as he entered the room with Giuseppe on his tails. Spying Damon, Edward looked at Giuseppe. "I thought you told your son to stay home!" _

"_I did," Giuseppe said angrily "Damon?" _

_Damon looked over at Giuseppe and could see the disappointment and anger all in his father's eyes. It was nothing different than how Giuseppe looked at him the rest of the time, but Damon couldn't stand to see it anymore. He just shielded his eyes from his father and turned on his heel to walk out. Clarissa, Edward, and Giuseppe stared after him as he left, but he had earned the attention of everyone in the Fell household by now, which included his brother and Katherine, who had come together. _

_Once Damon was gone, shamefully walking away, Katherine gave a frustrated sigh and peered into the study to see everyone's beloved Clarissa. She was so angry, it bubbled over inside of her. Katherine had tested Damon; she tried to see if he would take her bait and try and talk Clarissa out of the wedding because Katherine was certain Damon had feelings for her. _

_But after Katherine gave Clarissa just enough amount of time to be happy to take it away from her? Oh, Damon would never feel for her again. She would see to that. _

* * *

"How did you even get out of the tomb?" Claire asked in disbelief as she and Christopher sat down on a bench out in the middle of the night in the town square. She pulled Christopher down with her, their hands entwined.

Christopher's shoulders shrugged. "I…have no idea. There were these…people that had come into the tomb. This…_commotion_, of some sort. There was a scream, and the next thing I knew, I smelt blood. I finally gathered enough strength to finish off what was at my disposal and then I got out of the tomb. I have no idea why the seal broke."

Claire bit her lip, feeling incredibly guilty. She knew exactly what Christopher was talking about, and those 'people' he spoke of happened to be her, Damon, and Stefan. Now that she knew the seal was never back on the tomb door to begin with, her entire reason for leaving Christopher behind was null and void.

"But it doesn't matter now." Christopher squeezed Claire's hand seeing her distress and smiled at her. "I've been staying with the other vampires because I thought Pearl could help find you for me, and…well, as grateful as I am to her for teaching me the ways of this new world, I have you now."

Claire looked down at their hands and smiled, but that hole inside of her chest just deepened at the guilt. For a century and a half, she had been so unfaithful that it was nauseating. Now that Christopher was out and here with her, she felt even guiltier for being the way she was. He looked at her like she was the most innocent girl in the world when, really, she was far from it.

She looked up at him and tried to get off the topic, finding it was just digging a hole inside of her body that she didn't care for. "Pearl's set up a house for the rest of the vampires?"

Christopher nodded and sighed. "Yes. I suppose that they're trying to reclaim Mystic Falls as their rightful home because of the hell they'd been through. It's not surprising."

"Hardly," Claire snorted, tilting her head back and forth. She exhaled and just looked off into the crowd of townspeople walking in the middle of the night. "Well, Stefan really won't be happy about this," she muttered and then turned to Christopher. "Which reminds me—"

"You're…going to tell me that you're staying with Damon and Stefan in Mystic Falls, aren't you?" Claire nodded. "Yes. Pearl informed me this morning. I tried to go back to the original Salvatore house when I first got out of the tomb, but it was torn down."

Claire smiled. "Well, they have a new home now. The boarding house." She paused, pursing her lips, but then she saw something on Christopher's leg. It was his hand, and the wedding ring was exhibiting a glare of light at the angled it was positioned. Claire reached over and grabbed his hand, examining the ring in the dim streetlight. Blue gemstones radiated in the band's width. It was confusing to her, especially since she was sure his wedding ring was studded with diamonds. "What's this?" she murmured.

Christopher straightened and blew out a long breath of air. "I…I haven't the slightest idea. I think it protects me from the sun. I could have sworn that my wedding ring had diamonds embedded but—"

"They're lapis lazuli," Claire whispered, and she looked up at Christopher with her enticing blue eyes of a lighter color than the gemstones. Suddenly, a light laugh escaped her mouth. "Oh…Emily Bennett. God. If she ever possesses Bonnie again, I'll have to remember to thank her."

Christopher hummed under his breath, but as his thumb brushed over Clarissa's knuckles, he frowned and pulled her hand up to him. It was her left hand, that much he was aware of, but she wasn't wearing her rings. The thought kicked him in the chest, but he realized quickly that it wasn't fair to her. Claire pulled her hand away from him as she could see the realization cross his face. She ducked her head, shameful, and put her hands in her laps.

"Christopher, I—"

"Clarissa, you don't have to explain anything to me." Christopher sighed, shaking his head. "You thought I died in that church for an entire century. I didn't…expect you to…"

Claire turned to him and shook her head. "No. No, please don't think that I've…_moved _on or anything." She scoffed. It was a bit of a lie, but she needed to tell him whatever he needed to hear. She felt so insanely guilty that she was sure it'd eat her up alive, but she didn't want to lose Christopher so soon after getting him back. It may have been an arranged marriage that she didn't want to go through with, but over time, it had grown to become as real as it got. "If I knew you were in that tomb, I would've never rested until I got you out. Believe me."

"I believe you." Christopher nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she was able to get the words out, her phone rang in her pocket. Christopher jumped, but Claire just tilted her body and grabbed her phone from her back pocket. Stefan's name was on the screen, so she answered it without hesitation.

"Hey, Stefan. What's up?" Christopher watched as Claire listened intently on the other side of the phone, and she widened her eyes. "Oh, my God. Yeah. I'll…uh…I'll be right there." She ended the phone call and stood up from the bench.

"What's going on?" Christopher asked, standing up, too. Claire shook her head and ran a hand through her blonde hair while she shrugged.

"I…I have no idea. Stefan just called and said that two vampires broke into the house. Vampires from the tomb."

Christopher was silent, thinking to himself, but then he realized. Two vampires, out and about around town. "Frederick and Bethanne," Christopher muttered, disappointed.

Claire looked up at him, confused. "Did you know they were attacking?"

Christopher shook his head. "No. The reason I came out tonight was to look for them. They took off against Pearl's wishes, but…well, seeing you distracted me. They must have known you were there so I'd be preoccupied when they attacked."

Claire processed the information, but it was nothing useful. She just sighed. "Well…come on. Let's get back to the boarding house." Christopher exhaled and nodded, but she thought she saw a hesitation in his eyes. "Unless you'd rather go back to Pearl's…"

Christopher looked down at her, eyebrows raised. "Of course not. As I said before, I wanted Pearl to help me find you. Once I did, I wasn't going to stay."

Claire and Christopher eyed each other for a long time before Claire nodded. "Okay, then. Let's go."

* * *

When they finally reached the boarding house, it wasn't long before Damon and Stefan revealed that Bethanne was dead to Christopher and Claire. Upon learning such information, Christopher was forced to return back to Pearl's to tie up loose ends before coming back to the boarding house with Clarissa. Stefan was on the phone with Elena to check up on her while Damon and Claire both tried to move the dead body to the fireplace to incinerate it.

"So how long did you know about the tomb vampires being out?" Claire asked Damon as they carried the body over to the fireplace and dropped it in front of the flame. Damon looked up at her, raising his eyebrows in that Damon-like way. "And don't you dare lie to me this time."

Damon sighed. "Since this morning." Her frown turned into a straight grimace. "Oh, don't look at me with those judgy little eyes. You were wallowing and Pearl said she wanted to set up a _lovely _reunion."

Claire crossed her arms. "Have I mentioned how much I despise you and your life's mission to make my happiness obsolete?"

"Vaguely. Stefan!" Damon turned to his brother who had just ended the phone call with Elena. Damon gave the bronze-haired vampire a sour smile and just said, "Could you help us out a little bit?"


End file.
